


Let The Dominos Fall

by pbarfic9



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Boss Zayn, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Gangs, Harry is a Tease, Italian Mafia, M/M, Murder, Murder Mystery, Seduction, Violence, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6327970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pbarfic9/pseuds/pbarfic9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One city. One murder. One girl...</p><p>One death that plunged the city into a dark spiral of chaos, as the hunters become the hunted, and the clock races for either side to find the man responsible.</p><p>Zayn's the boss of New York's biggest crime family. When an unidentified girl is found murdered, he finds himself plunged into a deadly game of cat and mouse, where you never know who you can trust, and the truth is never a simple as it appears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So I got the idea a couple nights ago to write a kind of murder mystery, Mob AU, crime drama, and I figured I'd try my hand at it. So far, I'm really loving it, here's the first chapter! 
> 
> Perspectives will vary between Zayn and the mob, and Reid (OMC) and the cops as they both race to solve a young girl's murder. 
> 
> Don't worry, the rest of the boys are in it too I promise ;)

“Captain, we’ve got a report of an 187 down at the docks. Female, early 20’s, found dead in an alley. Call came in from a local coffee shop owner. Dispatch ASAP.”

Reid sighed, as he pulls his squad car out to head down towards the docks. He loved being a police officer, he really did, but he had always hated hearing someone so young appear on his scanner. God, he was only 25, she was only a few years younger than he was. Reid grimaces, it’s not his job to feel bad for her, it’s his job to find the bastard who did her in and make sure he spends his life behind bars. So, he does what he does best; compartmentalizes his emotions, quells the lump in his throat as he pulls up next to the alley, and starts his first homicide investigation of the last two weeks. 

“Captain” the uniformed officer acknowledges, as Reid flashes him his badge, and ducks under the yellow caution tape roping off the scene. “God Payne, how in the hell do you always manage to get here before me” he teases, walking up to stand beside Liam, one of his detectives, who’s already crouched down examining the body.

Liam stands, and turns to smirk over his shoulder at Reid, “good morning to you too” he teases back good naturedly, “crime scene tech is on their way with the ME, should be here in a couple minutes.” 

“Good. What do we have?” Reid responds, glancing down to take in the body lying on the cobblestones before him. “Female, early 20’s, approximately 5’4’’. Single GSW to the back of the head. Local coffee shop owner noticed the blood trail this morning on his way into work, called it in.” Liam fills him in, as Reid snaps on his gloves, and crouches down to get a better look. 

The first thing he notices is the blood, or rather, the lack thereof. With a gunshot wound to the back of the head, there should be blood everywhere, but all Reid sees is a single trail of droplets leading from the mouth of the alley, to the body itself. “Any evidence the body’s been moved?” he asks Liam, carefully scanning his surroundings for hairs, shoeprints, anything he can find. 

“Nope, none. That’s what’s weird about this, if she was shot in the head, there should be blood spatter everywhere, but there’s nothing.” Liam responds, looking around the alley. 

“Okay, so she must have been shot somewhere else.” Reid concludes, standing up to begin walking around the rest of the scene. 

“My thought exactly. I had some uniforms canvas the local shops and apartments, but no one saw or heard anything suspicious last night. Gunshot of that caliber would have been loud, and this is a pretty crowded area. Someone should have heard something.” Liam responds. 

Reid takes a moment to take in the body itself. Something about this whole scene, is off; it’s too clean. The girl’s body is laying on her back, left arm at her side, right arm crossed over her heart in a fist. Her eyes are closed, and her legs are straight, she looks almost at peace, Reid thinks. “Body’s clearly been staged here” he comments, looking at Liam, who nods in agreement. “Thing is, there’s no evidence the body’s been moved. No shoeprints into or out of the alley, no tire tracks, nothing. That much staging would require the killer to be standing right next to her, but there’s absolutely nothing in this alley to indicate that. I mean look around Reid, there’s nothing here.” Liam counters.

Reid looks around; Liam’s right. It’s like this girl just materialized into the alley out of nowhere. Nothing looks out of place, there aren’t any shell casings nearby, no stray hairs near the body, no shoeprints, no tire prints, nothing. Nothing but a single trail of blood, and a dead girl with a bullet in her brain.

“ID? You got here before I did, we have any clue who she is?” 

“None,” Liam responds “no wallet, no ID, no keys, no purse, absolutely nothing. I sent my uniforms with her photo when they went to go canvas, but no one around her recognized her either. I’ll run her prints as soon as the crime scene techs can take them, but baring that or a dental match, she’s a Jane Doe.”

“This is starting to get a little freaky” Reid responds, cocking his head as he stares down at the body lying before him. “No ID, no evidence, no blood, no shoe prints, no one’s this careful when they dump a body.” He crouches down next to the body, “who are you?” he whispers, “who killed you?”. 

“Sir!” he hears one of the cops standing at the front shout, pulling him out of his thoughts “ME and Crime scene tech are here.” Reid nods, “send them in.” 

He watches as the crime scene tech unit floods the scene, and the medical examiner, Liza, rolls a gurney over to begin her initial examination of the body, her autopsy tech in tow.

“Single GSW to the back of the head, looks like about a .45 caliber,” Liza begins to rattle off to her autopsy tech, who’s making note of her observations. “Clean entry, no exit wound. Significant soot around the point of entry, indicating she was probably shot at point blank range.”

“Liza, good morning” Liam starts, his smile friendly as he and Reid make their way back over to speak with their medical examiner. Liza rolls her eyes, despite Liam’s best efforts, she’s never been too fond of him. “Payne, Williams” she states matter-of-factly, before turning her attention back to the body in front of her. 

“Can you confirm cause of death?” Reid asks. Liza scoffs, “please, this one’s not exactly a head scratcher. Bullet in your brain’ll do it every time”. “You know I have to ask, Liza.” Reid laughs.

“Time of death?” Liam furthers, peering down at Liza’s examination of the body. “Hmm to be honest I’m not totally sure. Liver temperature would indicate she’s probably been dead about 8 hours, so you’re looking at between 2 and 3 am last night, but her body’s rigor indicates it may have been longer than that. I’ll have to run some tests when I get her back to the lab” “Got it,” Liam notes, moving away to talk with the crime scene techs, who are busy documenting the scene, cameras flashing rapidly. 

Reid’s about to turn away as well, when suddenly Liza stops him. “You see her tattoo, Williams?” she asks, and no, Reid hasn’t seen that yet. He turns around, to see Liza point to a tattoo on the inside of the victim’s right arm. “Looks new” he comments, eyebrows furrowing as he examines it. “It is” Liza confirms. “Within the last few day’s I’d say. Looks like it might be covering up an older piece.” 

“You’re not as safe as you think you are” he reads, his voice soft and confused as he examines the tattoo more closely. He turns his head, when suddenly he sees it, the glimmer of something metal in her clenched right fist. 

“Liza, what’s in her hand?” he asks. Liza carefully pries open the victim’s fingers, to reveal a small pendant necklace. She carefully extracts it, before handing it over to Reid.

“What is it?” She asks, intrigued. “I don’t know…” Reid murmurs, it looks like there’s some kind of symbol or something etched into one side of it. 

Reid holds the pendant up, and even in the dimly lit alley, it glints in the morning light. 

From the adjacent rooftop, a man peers out from the shadows, watching the scene unfold beneath him. He takes a moment to observe the Officers, watches them scramble around the girl’s lifeless body. They look like ants, he thinks, running in a million directions, without any idea of what they’ve stumbled into. 

He grimaces as he examines the girl’s body from the safety of the rooftop, unseen by the officers below. The police may not recognize her, may not know who she is, but he certainly does. He snaps a photo, and in an instant, he’s gone; vanished into the shadows. 

He needs to hurry, Harry needs to know about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So couple things: 
> 
> 1\. It's pretty clear I watch too many cop shows ;) and  
> 2: What did you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts, comments make my day! I'm super excited about this fic, so let me know if you have any ideas, or if you like/dislike what I have so far :) 
> 
> Y'all are the best! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Chapter 2? Already? Haha I know I'm not usually this fast, but like I said I'm on spring break and I'm super excited about this idea so.... ;) 
> 
> This chapter features some Harry/Louis, and the first taste of the mob side of this story.

Harry grins, laughing contently as Louis presses kisses up the tilted column of his throat. For once, they actually have the afternoon off, no meetings or sit downs, nothing on their schedule until tomorrow morning, when Louis has to go with Zayn to inspect some of the new product being delivered to the warehouse tonight. 

It’d been ages since both he and Louis had actually had a whole afternoon free, which meant he’d spent the whole morning restless. Louis, as per usual, was gone when Harry woke up. As Zayn’s Consigliere, Louis was his most trusted advisor, he was Zayn’s right hand man. Harry would be the first to admit Louis was great at his job, he and Zayn had grown up together. Zayn could always count on Louis to make sure he was making the right decision, to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. Louis and Zayn were closer than brothers. Unfortunately, that meant that Louis was always running around from place to place, often acting on Zayn’s behalf when Zayn got swamped with Commission meetings and negotiations. Harry loved him for it, he just missed his boyfriend. 

Not that Harry himself wasn’t busy, he certainly was. You see Louis may have been Zayn’s right hand, but Harry liked to consider himself the brains behind the organization. Harry was a capo, basically a division leader. Zayn had 5 or 6 capos working for him, and each oversaw a different portion of their organization; armaments, cyber, drugs, etc. but Harry, Harry oversaw the intelligence division. Zayn had learned early on from his father that you can’t run an organized mob without knowing everything you can. That old saying, knowledge is power? It’s not far off. Sure, guns were great, and oftentimes necessary in their line of work, but your ability to protect your territory and avoid getting caught was based on your ability to monitor everything going on in your territory at all times. 

So that was Harry’s job. Harry had started as a simple con artist, his good looks and seductive voice had made him perfect for the job; one look at his curls and whisper in their ear, and Harry could seduce nearly anyone. Niall, Zayn’s underboss, had caught him one day pulling a con in their territory, and dragged him in to set him straight. Niall’s guys had worked him over pretty good, but Harry, Harry could talk his way out of almost anything. 

He had limped out of that meeting with a few busted ribs, a black eye, and a goal. He’d been impressed with what he’d seen, Zayn ran his family like a well oiled machine. They were clean, deadly, merciless when they needed to be, and they were on top; the most powerful family in New York by far. And Harry, Harry had always had a certain….affinity for power. 

Unlike Louis, who’d basically been born into this life, Harry had to work his way up through the ranks. But after working as an associate for god knows how long, he’d finally been made, sworn the oath, and the rest, as they say, is history. 

It didn’t take long for Zayn to realize he could put Harry’s skills of…persuasion to good use gathering intelligence. So, here he was, a few short years later, Capo of the Intelligence division.

He and Louis were certainly a power couple, which definitely had its perks. Unfortunately, one of those perks was not a lot of time to yourselves. So, with the knowledge that he’s have Louis to himself all afternoon, Harry had been restless all morning, barely able to concentrate on the reports he was reading. 

Harry groans, Louis’ still teasing, suckling gently on that spot behind Harry’s ear that he knows makes Harry’s knees weak. “Lou…” Harry whines, his hips bucking forward into his boyfriend’s “come on, please” he breathes. 

Louis chuckles, his hand coming down to rest on the hard line of Harry’s cock in his trousers, “Hmmm what is it darling? What do you want?” he asks, giving Harry’s cock a soft squeeze. Harry glares down at him petulantly, he’s in his office, straddling Louis lap, and damn it, Louis looks so fucking good in his suit. Everything about Louis screams danger, is screams power, and fuck, Harry’s so turned on. He can feel the holster of Louis’ gun at his side, and that combined with the mischievous look on Louis’ face is almost too much for Harry to bear. 

So Harry adopts a different tactic. It’s not that Harry doesn’t appreciate how Louis gets like this sometimes, but damn it it’s been too long. They can make slow, sweet love later, right now, he wants it hard, and he wants it now. So he grinds his hips down on Louis’ lap, wraps his arms around his neck, and leans in to purr in his boyfriend’s ear. “Please” he begs, voice breathy and soft, just the way he knows Louis likes, “please, Lou. Want you to fuck me…been thinking about it all day. Your cock filling me up, you always feel so good inside me Lou. Please?” he murmurs, voice seductive as he peers up at Louis through his eyelashes “I’ve been good, waited for you all day”. Louis groans, he knows he’s being played, “you little shit” he growls out, and Harry laughs as Louis flips him over onto his back. 

Louis’ fingers find the zipper on Harry’s pants, and Harry groans as Louis starts tugging impatiently, when suddenly—

There’s a hard rap at the door. 

Louis drops his head down on Harry’s shoulder. “Fuck” he groans, “what now.” “Just ignore it” Harry tries, “whatever it is, it can wait”. There’s another knock at the door, this time more insistent. 

“Fuck.” Harry spits, pulling off of Louis and straightening his clothes. “I swear to god….” He practically stomps over to the door, pulling it open to see one of his men, Ben, standing in front of it, clearly shaking. Good. Everyone knows not to interrupt Harry and Louis when they’re together, they don’t take too kindly to it. He spares a glare at his and Louis’ bodyguards, stationed outside their office. They’d been given clear instructions not to let anyone through. Whatever, Ben first, he’ll deal with their guards later.

Harry turns, motioning Ben inside his office, where he notes gratefully that Louis’ put himself back together too, and is leaning casually on Harry’s desk, a dark angry look in his eye. He whirls, and shoves Ben down into a chair before leaning down over him threateningly. 

“Ben, this better be fucking important, or I swear to god, I’m taking you to the basement myself.” He growls, as Ben’s eyes flicker between him and Louis fearfully. 

“I’m s-so sorry, Sir.” Ben starts, clearly terrified, “I wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important, it’s just that I was down by the docks this morning, like you assigned me, and I was making my morning loop over to Gino’s when I saw a cop car parked so I climbed up onto a roof and-“

“Spit it out, Ben” Louis interrupts, voice angry and impatient. 

Ben takes a deep breath, before looking up at Harry. 

“Sarah’s dead.” He whispers. 

Harry whirls to face Louis, whose head has snapped up to stare down at Ben. “You’re serious?” Louis questions, as he moves over to stand next to Harry, who’s stood straight up in shock, no longer leaning over to threaten the poor kid sitting in front of them. 

“I am, Sir” Ben continues, voice small and still terrified. Terrified of what, Louis’ not sure, of him and Harry, or of the fallout he knows is coming at what Ben’s seen. 

Harry’s eyes snap back to Ben’s, all business, thoughts of Louis and their afternoon together suddenly the furthest thing from his mind. 

“You sure it was her? Because I swear to God Ben if you’re wrong…” Harry growls, as he leaves the threat hanging in the air between them. Ben gulps; he knows how serious this is, knows what’ll happen to him if he’s wrong about this. 

“I’m sure, Sir. I saw a squad car parked outside an alley at the docks, looked like homicide. So I climbed up onto the adjacent roof to figure out who’d been whacked, I heard one of Niall’s guys had caught one of those Boston guys down at the docks last night, thought it might have been him. But it wasn’t, Sir. It was her, I’m sure of it. I took a picture” he frantically scrambles for his phone, pulling up the picture only to have Harry rip it out of his hands to take a closer look. 

Harry and Louis look at each other. “Harry that’s her. That cop’s holding up her mark and everything.” 

Harry turns back to Ben, “you’re dismissed, soldier. Good work.” Ben scrambles out as fast as he can. 

Harry looks at Louis. “You know what this means, right?“ 

Louis nods, “we have to tell Zayn. Right now.” 

Harry sighs, as an icy shiver of fear runs through his veins. “I know” he says, voice hard and resigned. 

Fuck, this is bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'd love to hear what you thought! 
> 
> Comments and kudos are bae! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely a longer update! 
> 
> Reid and Liam continue to try to find information out about their Jane Doe, when Liam uncovers something that puts her murder in an entirely new light.
> 
> Also if you like this fic, be sure to check out my other series, "Bring Me the Kings of the Shadows"! It's about Louis, a demon hunter who meets Harry and Zayn, two desire demons with an interesting proposition.

“Payne, you got anything?” Reid yells from across the bullpen hopefully. He’s been poring over the crime scene photos for almost an hour, and still, nothing’s caught his eye. Usually when he’s working a homicide he has something, no matter how small a detail, to work on. An eyewitness account, something left at the scene, a shoe print, some clue of who his vic even is but this…this is an entirely new level of frustrating. He has literally nothing to go on, for god’s sake, he doesn’t even know who their Jane Doe is. 

That ID is crucial. Baring someone seeing the murder take place, it’s almost impossible to track down a killer if you don’t even know the victim’s name. He’d sent Liam down to the CSI lab to check up on the fingerprints they’d collected at the scene. He just needed something, anything to start with. Something to get him moving in the right direction; a lead.

Liam shakes his head “nothing.” He says, moving over to sit at Reid’s desk. “Her prints weren’t in the system. I’m having them run DNA, dental records and facial recognition, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.” 

“Well, shit.” Reid curses, shaking his head, “I was really banking on those prints coming through.” There’s a possibility they could get a dental record match. You see, fingerprints aren’t the only unique part of a person’s body. Your dental impression is as well. If an impression of your teeth is in a database somewhere, it’s sometimes possible for them to match it, and get an ID. Unfortunately, dental records are even less common than fingerprints; given the age of their Jane Doe, if her prints aren’t in the system, it’s unlikely her dental imprints are. 

The same can be said for DNA and facial recognition. Sure, those things can be great, especially if you’re operating with someone using multiple aliases, but again they’re only as good as their databases. And in his experience, the fingerprint database is by far the most extensive. If she’s not in AFIS, it’s unlikely they’ll get a hit on her facial recognition or her DNA. 

“You find anything new in the crime scene photos?” Liam asks curiously, sitting down next to Reid and pulling out the case file himself. Reid sighs, “Nope. Nothing.” 

They sit there in silence for a second, both staring down contemplatively at their dishearteningly sparse file. Really all they’re going on is a picture of their vic, and given that there are over 8 million people living in this city, that picture’s as good as worthless without a name. 

Suddenly, Liam looks up. “What about the tattoo?” he asks, as he shuffles through the crime scene photos to find the blown up shot of the writing they’d found on the inside of their Jane Doe’s right arm. “What do you mean?” Reid asks, confused. “I mean is it possible we could trace that? Tattoo parlors all have to ID people to make sure they’re over 18, and most of them have security footage. Liza said this piece was relatively fresh, if we could figure out a way to trace that, we might be able to find the shop where she had it done. There’s a chance they’d remember her there.” 

“That’s actually not a bad idea” Reid says, almost reluctantly. “But I mean how are you possibly going to be able to track down who did that piece? It looks relatively standard to me, there are god knows how many tattoo shops in the city.” 

Liam smirks, eyebrow quirking up. “So little faith in me?” he teases, shoving Reid’s shoulder playfully. Reid rolls his eyes, “Just trying to be realistic man.” Liam laughs, “It certainly won’t be easy, but I’ve had some work down myself; let me take this down to a buddy of mine, maybe he recognizes the artist.” 

Reid quirks an eyebrow, “Mr. Goody-two shoes has tattoos?” he asks, “how scandalizing” he teases, and Liam ducks his head in almost embarrassment. “Oh god, I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I….” he groans, to which Reid just chuckles. “Not a chance in hell” he jokes cheekily. 

“Right, well I’m gonna head down to the parlor, I’ll let you know what I find out.” He says, grabbing his coat and the blown up photo of the tattoo. “Sounds good,” Reid responds, “the security footage we requested should be coming in pretty soon, I’ll start combing through that while you’re out gallivanting around the city’s many tattoo shops.” 

Liam chuckles, turns on his heel, and heads out, his cell phone already in hand as he hurries out of the precinct. “Sir!” he hears from behind him, “security footage is here.” Great, Reid thinks. They’d taken Liza’s approximate time of death and requested security footage from every nearby building during that time frame. If someone had dragged a 25 year old’s body into that alley, it’s almost impossible they’re not on that footage somewhere. So he grabs the thumbdrive handed to him, plugs in his headphones, and gets to work. 

\-------------

Liam hears the bell jingle almost jauntily over his head as he enters the small little tattoo shop he frequents. He smiles at the almost familiarity of it all, the buzz of the tattoo guns, and Nick’s shout of “be right there!” as he scrambles to the front from where he’s no doubt sitting chatting with whoever they’ve got back there being inked. 

“Liam!” Nick exclaims when he sees him, “blowing off work to get inked? Wow, didn’t know you had it in you.” He teases, his eyes lighting up with mischief. Liam’s been coming to this tattoo shop for years; he’s learned to take Nick’s teasing in stride. 

“Haha, you wish, Grimshaw” he volleys back, stepping up to the counter and pulling out the photo. “I’m actually here on a case.” 

“Oh, is that your excuse? Sure Liam, whatever you say” Nick winks, leaning against the counter casually. Liam laughs, “no I’m serious. I have a picture of a tattoo here, I was wondering if you could help me ID the artist?” Nick may not look like much, but he’s been running Midnight Memories for years, and he’s familiar with most of the city’s major artists. 

“Let’s have a look then.” Nick responds good naturedly, leaning over to examine the picture Liam places on the counter in front of him. “You recognize it?” 

Nick takes a moment to examine it. “Can’t say that I do mate. Unfortunately for you, it’s pretty generic script. Doesn’t look like anything unique to any one given artist.” Liam sighs, “I was afraid of that.” He says, resigned. 

Nick’s still examining the picture though. “What’s that underneath the script, is it covering up an older piece? It looks like some kind of symbol…” “I have no idea, can you make out what it is?” Liam asks, puzzled. 

“No, not specifically enough. But that one looks a lot more distinct. If you can get me a picture of that one without the script on top of it, it’s possible I might recognize that artist.” 

“Thanks man” Liam says, smiling as he grabs the photo, and heads back to the precinct. 

Reid’s still slouched over his computer, poring over security footage when he gets there. He looks up when Liam plops down in the chair beside him. “Find that tattoo shop?” He questions, eyes hopeful. 

“Nope, my buddy didn’t recognize it, said it was too generic.” “Well, shit” Reid responds. “He did say though that if we could get a copy of the older piece it looks like it’s covering, it’s possible he could get some information from that one. It looks more unique.” 

“Is that possible?” 

“No idea, we’d have to ask Liza. You find anything in the security footage?” Reid shakes his head, he’s frustrated and confused. “You’re not going to believe this. So I started with the first tape at 1:30 am, and watch here, at 2:15…” he pulls up the footage, finds the correct time stamp, and hits play. 

Liam’s looking at an outside view of the alley, the footage had been taken from the coffee shop across the street, the one who’s owner had first found the body. He watches the footage play forward, it’s dark and quiet, no movement visible. Suddenly, at 2:15, the screen cuts black. “What the hell?” he asks, looking up at Reid. 

“Weird, right?” Reid responds, “it stays black for about 15 minutes, but when it comes back on, at 2:30, look who’s there.” Liam peers into the darkness, and can make out the clear outline of their Jane Doe, staged just as they’d found her on the floor of the alley. “Freaky. Can we get another angle?” 

“My thought exactly. So I pulled up the next tape, the one from the drug store next door, and the same thing happened.” Liam looks up startled. “I checked every tape we pulled, they’re all the same. Everything’s normal, when suddenly the footage cuts at 2:15, only to reappear at 2:30 to show our Jane Doe, already dead and staged at the scene.” 

Liam’s shocked. He’s been a cop for several years now, and he’s never heard of anyone, not even the hardcore hitmen whose targets sometimes come across his scanner, being this careful. “Whoever this guy is, he’s certainly good.” Reid furthers. “To be honest, this is starting to kind of freak me out. I mean who the hell is this girl, and who the fuck wanted her dead? Cause whoever it was, they’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. I mean this level of meticulousness is off the charts.”

Liam reexamines the security footage. “Not only that, but they’ve got some serious skills too. These systems certainly aren’t foolproof, but to hack them all…that takes some pretty serious skill. Not to mention the lack of evidence at the crime scene…whoever did this, this isn’t their first rodeo.” 

Reid nods, he agrees. It’s terrifying, what every homicide cop fears. It’s starting to look like the perfect murder. No eyewitnesses, no ID, no forensics, no security footage. Nothing, absolutely nothing. 

They decide to call it a night, they’ve been at it for hours, and Reid can feel the beginnings of a headache setting in. 

He’s there early the next morning, staring at the board they’ve created. There’s got to be something else, some other angle they can attack this from, when suddenly—

“I got something!” He hears Liam yell, as he runs into the bullpen, coffee in hand. Reid rushes over, it’s early, but Liam looks almost frantic. He grabs his phone, punches a few numbers, and then turns to look at Reid while he waits to be transferred. 

“It occurred to me last night; the necklace. Remember it had that weird symbol on it? What if there was a way to track that symbol? I mean it’s got to mean something right? Well I happened to be having dinner with a buddy of mine last night, a retired cop from over in the 9th precinct, and well,” Liam grimaces, “he recognized it.” 

“What does it mean?” Reid asks, excited. Finally, they have something to go on. But Liam doesn’t look happy, he looks worried. Liam’s frowning, his jaw is set, he looks worried, his brow furrowed in concern. 

The person on the other end of the line picks up. Liam lifts his head, and looks Reid dead in the eye. 

“This is Detective Payne, from the 12th precinct. I need someone from Organized Crime down here right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we get to meet Zayn as the mob boss! I'm excited :) 
> 
> This story is taking a bit to get going, because it requires a decent amount of backstory for the investigation, but if you stick with me I have some pretty interesting (Ziam related) developments in the works! 
> 
> In the meantime, I'd love to hear what you thought! Let me know in the comments below :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is pretty long..I started writing and kind of didn't stop lol. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! We're getting closer to Ziam every day ;)

Louis grimaces. God he doesn’t want to be the one to have to do this. But he’s Zayn’s Consiglere, which means he doesn’t have a choice. To not tell Zayn would be effective mutiny, and he’d be putting himself, Harry, and most of his family in danger. As close as he and Zayn are, if Louis kept something this significant from him, Zayn wouldn’t have a choice. 

Louis had never even really known her that well it’s just…well he knows what she had meant to Zayn. Zayn’s a good boss; he’s rational, doesn’t make snap decisions, and he keeps his head down. But a hit like this is anything but random—it’s personal. It’s a warning. No matter how Zayn reacts, this isn’t something they’re going to be able to ignore. It’s going to require investigation, retribution; if he knows Zayn it’s going to be priority number one from now on. And that scares Louis. An operation of that scale, they’re much more likely to draw attention from the cops, and if Zayn’s personally involved, he’s more likely to cut corners, make mistakes. As Zayn’s Consigliere, it’s Louis’ job to advise him, but there’s only so much he can do.

Still, Zayn needs to know, and now. God he’s so mad...whoever killed Sarah’s got balls of steel, because unless they’re an idiot, they know they’re about to bring down the wrath of the most powerful family in New York straight on their heads. Zayn’s ruthless when he needs to be, and Louis knows the second they find the bastard who did this, that bastard’s good as dead. 

This is gonna be a huge conversation, so he grabs Harry, and heads to find Niall. Niall’s Zayn’s underboss, which means he and Louis are effectively of the same rank within the mob’s hierarchy; they just have different roles. While it’s Louis’ job to advise, he’s not Zayn’s direct successor. That’s Niall. If anything happens to Zayn, Niall becomes acting boss effective immediately. Both he and Niall can act on Zayn’s behalf in certain situations, but Louis’ behind Niall in terms of succession. Niall’s role as underboss varies depending on who the boss is, while Louis’ role is designed to remain constant across….administrations. Instead, it’s Louis’ job to be rational, to advise, and if Niall ever took over, he’d more than likely remain consilgiere. 

Whatever conversation they’re about to have, Niall definitely needs to be involved. So Louis figures he’ll save Zayn the extra step, and he and Harry will just go get Niall beforehand—so he’s in on the conversation from the beginning. 

Harry’s on the phone, barking orders. He’s already sent his men out to the docks. God Louis loves him. He’s smart, and seductive, and is always thinking three steps ahead of everyone else. It’s what makes him so good as Intelligence Capo. His men are all discrete, but they have their orders: drop everything, and find out everything you can about Sarah’s murder. Quietly. 

They pull up to the warehouse where Niall keeps his office. Louis’ never understood why Niall insists on having his office here, he certainly can have a nicer location…he and Harry certainly do. But Niall’s like that—always wants to feel like he’s connected to the family on every level. It’s probably one of the reasons he’s such a good underboss. He takes the time to understand what’s going on even amongst the associates. 

Louis and Harry get out of their car, shadowed on all sides by their bodyguards. Louis had grown up next to Zayn, he’d basically grown up with this, but having the guards around all the time had definitely taken some time for Harry to get used to. Zayn, the mischievous bastard, always teases Harry about it; about how he and Louis were constantly scarring their guards with their…shall we say explicit relationship. Harry had learned to take it in stride. 

He and Harry hit the warehouse like a hurricane, barreling in and heading straight for Niall’s office. All throughout the warehouse, associates halt their conversations, pause whatever they’re doing, their eyes carefully tracking Harry and Louis as they hurry across the warehouse floor towards Niall’s office. They all know something big’s happened for both Harry and Louis to show up looking so hurried, but they don’t interfere. It’s not their job to worry about it, the tension settles in the room, as they all turn back to whatever they’ve been assigned. If they’re involved, they’ll be given orders. Until then, it’s none of their concern. But that doesn’t stop the air of unease that’s settled over the room from hanging in the air, as Louis and Harry barrel into Niall’s office, their guards moving to join Niall’s outside the office door. 

“What the—“ Niall looks up from his computer, startled at the intrusion, his eyes on alert. When you’re in this life, you learn pretty soon that nobody ever comes barreling into your office like this with good news. 

“Sarah’s dead.” Harry cuts Niall off, before he can even finish his sentence. “Down by the docks. One of my guys saw homicide all over the body this morning, cop was holding her mark.” 

Niall freezes, he’s stock still. “Fuck.” He grits out, “we don’t need this right now. Not with the Irish threatening our southern border.” 

“I know.” Louis agrees, “but we’re straight in the middle of it now. We need to tell Zayn. Now.” 

Louis hasn’t even finished his sentence before Niall’s grabbing his coat, and following Louis and Harry out of the room. Their guards hurry to catch up, barking orders into their earpieces to have the cars pulled around. As they’re rushed into their waiting car, Louis pulls out his phone.

“Zayn. We’ve got a problem, a big one. We need to talk. Now.” He doesn’t wait for Louis response, he knows Zayn well enough by now not to expect one. They’re only about 15 minutes out, and he’s given Zayn the head’s up. Details can wait until they’re in person. Besides, with the FBI thinking they’re hot shit with their wire-taps, you can never be too careful of what you say on the phone. 

—

They pull around to meet Zayn just a few minutes later, a black unmarked car at the back entrance of a social club. Louis almost scoffs, it’s moments like these that make him feel like his life is a fucking movie. 

They head in, as quickly as they can without alerting anyone in the club downstairs of their haste. This is something best kept close to the chest, at least until they get Zayn’s orders. 

They stop outside of Zayn’s door. Niall raises his hand to knock, but before he can, they hear Zayn’s voice from inside the office. “Get in here” he calls, voice hard, with an edge of concern. They file in, coat tails flying and fists balled as they whirl to stand in front of their boss. 

Zayn’s sat behind his desk, suit jacket off and draped lazily across the back of his chair. He’s wearing a crisp white button down, and his shoulder holster is strapped to his back, his gun hanging underneath his arm. 

Zayn levels them with a look. They all know Zayn, in fact all 4 of them are pretty close friends. Louis knows what this means-Zayn means business. His tone is darker, his edges appear sharper, his hands ball minutely where they’re balled into a fist, his elbows on the table as he leans forward, awaiting their response. 

“What’s going on.” 

Harry steps forward. “Sarah’s dead.” 

Louis tenses, watches for Zayn’s reaction. He watches his best friend tense up, drawing back minutely, almost in physical shock. To someone who didn’t know Zayn they wouldn’t notice a reaction at all, but Zayn’s his best friend. Trained for years to hide his reactions, Louis can see right through Zayn’s carefully constructed façade of permanent aloofness; of permanent indifference. 

Zayn closes his eyes for a moment, and when they open again it’s like entire face has changed. Gone is the business like look of cool indifference, and its place a face of outrage and hurt. They all stand there for a moment in tense silence. 

“You’re serious?” 

“As a heart attack.” 

Louis looks at Zayn, “it’s true, Zayn. Kid brought in a picture and everything, cop was holding up her mark. It’s definitely her.” 

Zayn bangs his fist down on the desk, and they all start minutely. Zayn’s upset, they knew he would be. And as worried as they all are, they have a job to do. They need to be ready to move, and quickly, as soon as Zayn hands down his orders. 

Zayn looks at Louis desperately, and Louis can see the shine of tears in his eyes. Niall cuts in, almost quietly. “I know this is gonna take some time to process, boss, but we need to move fast if we’re going to do something about this.” 

Zayn nods, a short, jerky movement before his brows furrow, and he’s back to business. The anger and sadness is still there, but it’s simmering beneath the surface. He knows he needs to focus, needs to get his shit together; he wants his revenge. 

“Any idea who it was?” he growls out, “because I swear to God when I find out, that fucker’s gonna be wishing for a bullet before I’m through with him.” 

“None yet,” Harry supplies, crossing his arms over his chest. “Trust me, by now, the docks are crawling with our guys. Anyone saw anything, we’ll know about it. I’ve also got guys outside the police station, so we can keep them on our radar too. Won’t hurt to know what they’re doing; who knows, the blue shirts might come up with something useful for once” he smirks. 

Zayn leans forward onto his elbows, his expression sharp as his eyes flick from one of his men to the other. “Think we should contact the Commission?” he asks, looking between Niall and Louis. 

“Fuck no” they spit, almost in unison. Zayn raises an eyebrow. Something of this magnitude should go to the Commission, the governing body of the major New York crime families. 

Niall steps forward, “the way I see it,” he lilts in his Irish accent, “this sure as shit wasn’t an accident. Whoever did this knew what they were doing, this is a threat meant for you, boss. Let’s play this one close to the chest, just inside the family, until we know what the fuck is going on here. If it was someone else in New York, from another family, or if we need to take on the Irish or something, then we’ll go the Commission for support.” 

Zayn nods, it’s good advice. “Alright, we won’t go to the Commission then. Not until we know more about whatever sick fuck did this.” 

He sits back, eyes still simmering with detached anger, and expression cold. “Harry” he barks, and Harry steps forward, awaiting his orders. “Anyone saw anything last night at the docks, I want to know. If they don’t want to talk-take them to the basement. You can do whatever you need to, just don’t kill anyone unless you have to. The last thing we need is the cops sniffing around here right now. And I want to know everything the cops know about this case. Names, suspects, test results, you name it. They know it, we know it, got it?” 

Harry nods, “Yes sir.” He answers. 

Zayn quirks his chin up, “Good, dismissed” he almost barks, and the word’s barely left his mouth before Harry’s already hurrying out of the room, barking orders into the phone pressed to his ear as his bodyguard hastens to catch up. “Leo, meet me in my office in 10 minutes, I need a status report on the docks. And send another five guys to the police station; I need to know everything the cops know about her death….Yes we need to get inside…” Louis catches the beginning of Harry’s conversation, before it trails off as he rushes out of the building. 

Zayn turns to his underboss next. “Niall, we need to watch our backs, whoever did this either has a death wish, or probably knows what they’re up against, if they’re coming at us this directly.” Niall nods. “I want the times of all the upcoming deliveries changed, and double security at all of our major checkpoints and drop off locations. Your guys grabbed one of the Irish guys this morning, didn’t you?” 

“We did.” Niall answers, mouth set in a grim line. 

“Good. Take him to the basement, see if he knows anything.” Niall nods, before turning to exit in much the same fashion Harry had, phone pressed to his ear as he barks orders to his capos. 

Niall leaves the room, and Zayn seems to deflate, almost collapsing forward onto his elbows. He’s known Louis practically since they were born; as much as he loves Niall and Harry, Louis’ the only one he feels comfortable sharing this with. 

“I can’t believe she’s really dead….” He whispers, eyes and voice filled with pain. “I know,” Louis starts, moving to sit across the table from Zayn. “I know how much she mean to you. We’ll get the guy, I promise Z. We always do.” He finishes, dark expression crossing his face. He and Zayn certainly aren’t saints, but they’re loyal as shit—you come for one of them, and you’re a dead man. No questions asked. 

“I just…I remember seeing her as a little girl, she was so sweet. She wasn’t cut out for this, never has been…” Zayn reminiscing, gaze far off into the distance as he remembers. “I still remember the day she told her father she wanted out. He was furious. She climbed in through my window at like 3 in the morning…” he chuckles almost fondly, “nearly gave me a heart attack. My gun was in my hand faster than even I thought possible.” Louis smiles. He remembers that too, Zayn had told him about it first thing the next morning. 

“You did everything you could” Louis says, trying to comfort his friend as best he can. “You gave her a life outside of this one,” Zayn nods, but his eyes are still clouded with pain, with guilt. Sarah had been Zayn’s only other close childhood friend, other than Louis. Her dad had been a capo in Zayn’s family’s mob, but she hadn’t wanted this life, wasn’t cut out for it. Zayn knew that, he was her closest confidant, the closest thing she ever had to an older brother. When he became boss, he should have had her taken out; after all, she had grown up in this life. She knew more about Zayn than anyone else on the planet except Louis, by nearly every definition she was a threat, and should have been handled as such. 

But instead, Zayn had taken a different route. They had staged her death, and Zayn had sent her out of New York on a bus to San Francisco. She’d started a new life, and Louis knows Zayn’s tried his absolute hardest to make sure no one ever knew what had really happened that cold March night when he sent his best friend in the world thousands of miles away to protect her. 

In this life, attachments are weaknesses. And Zayn never wanted anyone to be able to use her against him. For years, she had lived happily in California. Louis doesn’t know how they did it, but somehow Zayn managed to check in with her periodically, to make sure she was doing okay. 

Louis can see it. Can see the guilt Zayn’s trying so hard to hide in his expression, can see he blames himself, his life for her death. 

“Zayn. It wasn’t your fault” he says softly, pulling his arm around his best friend. And Zayn does something Louis doesn’t genuinely think he’s ever seen Zayn do in his life; he leans into Louis’ shoulder, and cries. 

\----- 

It’s not too long before Louis’ phone breaks the silence, it’s shrill sound breaking through the fog that’s seemed to envelope the room. 

“What did you find?” He almost barks into the phone, he knows it’s Harry on the other line. He thinks back to just a few short hours ago, to him and Harry in his office. God, that seems like a lifetime ago…

“My guys are still working on the docks.” Harry starts, and he’s all business, just like Louis is. “Someone saw her coming out of a hotel room this morning a few blocks outside of the docks, so I sent my guys over there to check the place out.” 

“And?” Louis prompts. God he hopes they can get this resolved quickly, but something in his gut tells him this isn’t going to be easy. You don’t come at the king of the criminal underworld without some preparation. 

“Place was ransacked.” Harry continues, and Louis can hear the sound of a car door opening in the background. Harry must be on his way back to his office then. “Whoever came for her, she put up a hell of a fight.” Louis scoffs, “of course she did.” Sarah might never have wanted this for herself, but she was raised in the mob. Guns, knives, fighting, surveillance; their girl could take care of herself. Louis has no doubt she gave whoever came after her hell. 

“Find anything interesting?” 

Harry sighs. “Not much. My guys outside the 12th precinct said those two detectives were on the move, it’s possible they’re on their way to her apartment now, so we didn’t have much time. I’ve got someone tailing the detectives, we’ll see where they end up. Before we left we snagged her laptop though, and a thumb drive. I’m bringing it over to Niall and cyber now, see what they can do with it.” 

Louis watches Zayn nod. By this point, Louis’ put Harry on speakerphone; lord knows it’s easier than having to relay all of this to Zayn as soon as he hangs up the phone. 

At this point, Zayn cuts in. “We know any more about what the cops have got going on?” he asks, brow furrowing in conversation. Louis knows he’s absorbing this information, filing it away to scrutinize later. 

Again, he hears Harry sigh. “Not much. Got the names of the two detectives that have been assigned, Reid Williams and Liam Payne. Not much on them. We tried to get into autopsy but couldn’t get all the way through.” He laughs humorlessly, “infiltrating a police station isn’t easy boss, and we need information ASAP. I’m working on it, but it’s not looking great at this point.” 

Zayn grimaces. “Thanks Harry” Louis concludes, hanging up the phone and turning to Zayn. 

Louis looks at Zayn, and sees an expression somewhere between resigned, contemplated, and scheming. Zayn glances at Louis, before pulling out his own phone to dial Harry back. 

“Harry.” Louis hears him bark into the phone. He looks up at Louis, beginning of a smirk starting to tug on his face, and for just a second, Louis sees Zayn as he usually is. Somewhat cocky, scheming, and never one to back down from a challenge.

“Get me everything there is to know about Liam Payne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Thanks so much for reading, comments and kudos make my little writer's heart sing with joy! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know it's been foreverrrrrrrrrr since I updated this fic, but at long last, another chapter appears! 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Liam grimaces. Reid’s on edge, has been since Liam called for someone from organized crime. And he gets it, he does, he hates organized crime just as much as the next cop. It’s like fighting a hydra; no sooner do you cut one head off, than two more should appear, each more bloodthirsty than the last. 

But Reid looks….different. Colder somehow, more detached. Like he’s compartmentalizing. He’s sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair, simply…observing. To anyone else in the precinct, he’d look just as he always does, puzzling over a murder, trying to put the pieces together. But Liam’s his partner, it’s his job to know him better than anyone, and he can just tell, something about this one is different. Liam doesn’t ask. They each have their own reasons for becoming cops, he’d never asked Reid about his. 

“You Detective Payne?” he hears a gruff voice behind him, accompanied by a hand on his shoulder. He turns, and snaps himself out of his own thoughts to see the Detective from organized crime standing in front of him. The man is tall, about Liam’s height, with greying hair, wearing a faded black suit and wire frame glasses. For a second, Liam’s taken aback; organized crime can certainly be frustrating, but it’s also one of the more high-energy departments at the NYPD. Surely this can’t be the man he’s looking for…

“Yes, sir.” He answers, turning to shake the man’s hand. “That’s me”

“Detective Jack Michaels, organized crime division. You called about a mark?” 

Liam grimaces again. “I did.” He confirms, turning and nodding to Reid to follow them as they step out of the bullpen and into one of the conference rooms. 

They enter the conference room, and Reid closes the door behind him. “Can I see it? Do you really have one?” Detective Michaels asks, on the edge of his seat, and excited edge in his voice. 

“We’re not sure” It’s Reid that answers this time, “that’s why we called you.” 

“I talked to a buddy of mine who used to work or your department last night, he told me it might be something you could help us with.” 

Liam fills the Detective in as Reid pulls out the necklace. The older man is alight with excitement, his eyes are buzzing, his hands eager as he pulls it from Reid’s hands just a smidge too quickly. 

“You recognize it?” 

“Holy fuck” is all they get as a whispered response. 

“Do you recognize it?” Liam reiterates, now he’s the one on the edge of his seat. This could be the key, their whole case probably hinges on this necklace; but only if they could identify it. 

A pregnant pause follows. Finally, the Detective looks up. “Where exactly did you boys find this?” he asks hesitantly. Liam’s heart picks up. This man is serious, and now he’s starting to get nervous. 

“We uh, found it on a Jane Doe dumped down by the docks a couple nights ago. Looks like a professional hit.”

The man scoffs, “I’m sure it was” he says, shaking his head. 

“You know in all my years working organized crime, I’ve never actually seen one of these. I’ve seen pictures, heard accounts, but I’ve never once seen one in reality.” 

“You gonna tell us what it is, or not?” Reid demands, turning from where he’s been slowly pacing down one end of the conference room.

The man pauses, then nods, a concerned, far away look in his eye. “This boys, is a mark.” He says, holding up the necklace’s pendant to the light. The gold glints in the sunlight streaming through the windows, the room is warm, but Liam finds himself almost going cold. If that is what he thinks it is, they may be in trouble. 

The man continues, “Each one of the five families has a mark; a symbol that represents the family. It’s something that seems innocuous to you or I, something we’d barely notice, but in the criminal underworld, this mark is like wearing a neon sign around your neck. Anyone wearing that symbol, wearing that necklace, is under the direct protection of the family, and anyone who messes with them will have the family to deal with. Any disrespect done to them, any harm that comes to them, is considered harm to the family directly. These were designed to protect high up family member’s biological families; wife, kids, etc, a subtle declaration to the world that they were under the family’s protection.” 

“How serious is this protection thing? I mean how big a deal is this?” Liam asks, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Extremely. You touch someone wearing a mark, you’re a dead man. No questions asked. These guys are smart, they’re ruthless, and they’re certainly not afraid to kill. You come after someone wearing their mark, and that’s it. The contract goes out immediately from the boss himself. You’ll be lucky if you survive the week.” 

Reid exhales. Fuck. 

“Exactly.” The man continues. “You homicide boys may not know this, but this city’s living on a knife’s edge. My guys on the street tell me Malik’s keeping the peace, for now, but something like this….” The detective trails off, a look of genuine fear crossing his face. 

Liam looks up. “Who’s mark is this then?” 

The Detective looks at him, puzzled. 

“You said each family has a mark, whose is this?” 

The Detective grimaces. “The king himself, Zayn Malik.” He looks up, looks straight into Liam’s eyes, and Liam wants to do something terribly cliché, like gulp; it feels like the detective is looking straight into his soul. 

“You guys better watch your backs. If someone whacked a girl wearing Malik’s mark, they’re either insane, or trying to start a war. Probably both.” 

Ice runs through Liam’s veins. Zayn Malik himself, the undisputed king of the criminal underworld, and boss of New York’s most dangerous, and bloodiest mob families. 

Fuck. He’s in way over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? Did you like it? Hate it? 
> 
> I'm having a bit of writer's block at the moment, so if you have any ideas for where this story should go, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know!
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are bae!! They make my little writer's heart shine with joy!! 
> 
> Mwah! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! For the first time, our two groups begin to converge..
> 
> As always, please let me know what you thought!! Hearing from y'all absolutely makes my day!

“Liam Payne” 

Liam stops. Pauses. The voice is low, gruff, but he doesn’t recognize it. The kind of voice that seems like it’s more used to taking orders than giving them. 

Liam swallows, and before he thinks better of it, turns, hand subtly on the holster of the gun concealed at his waist within his jacket. Liam’s a cop, and his instincts are screaming at him. It’s late out, later than he’s usually going home, but he’d gotten caught up at the precinct. After the confirmation that the necklace they’d found on their Jane Doe was indeed Zayn Malik’s mark, nearly half the organized crime department had descended onto their precinct. 

They had tried to take this case, they had, after all, uncovered a stronger organized crime connection than nearly any case in the last decade. But Liam’s captain held firm. This was a homicide case first and foremost, and it was going to be treated as such. So instead, they’d sat Liam and Reid down, and proceeded to give the two of them about a three and a half hour briefing on Malik and his family. Liam’s head was swimming with names he could barely keep straight, Tomlinson, Horan, Styles…and past rivalries and feuds so complex, he wondered how Malik himself even remembered who he wanted dead. 

Now it’s late, much later than Liam was hoping, and he’s walking down the street towards the subway when he hears it. That gruff voice behind him that somehow makes his blood run cold. 

Liam takes in the scene in front of him. It’s dark, and he isn’t on a crowded street anymore. This may be New York, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of places to hide in the shadows. The faint glow of a streetlight glimmers in the distance, but it casts only a moderate glow onto the man standing in front of him. Liam’s grip on his gun tightens. 

The man is tall, broad, and Liam thinks absently he looks almost twice his size. He’s leaning casually against a black car parked inconspicuously at the side of the road. He looks relaxed, unperturbed by the fact that it must be obvious by this point that Liam’s got a gun. 

Fuck, what is Liam doing? Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have even turned around, he knows better than this, but something compels him to go against his better instincts. He squares his shoulders, sets his feet, and raises his eyes to look the man up and down. 

“Who’s asking?” 

The man laughs quietly, almost as though he’s amused by Liam’s very existence. This whole thing his making Liam uneasy. All he can think about is Zayn Malik, all he can see is his face in his head, and suddenly he’s wondering if maybe Malik himself is sitting in the car. 

“Get in the car” the man responds gruffly, thumb jerking to indicate the back seat. 

And even Liam’s not that stupid. “No way in hell” he says, and turns to continue walking down the street. The man doesn’t move. 

“Wasn’t a request mate.” 

Liam pauses, turns back to the man again. “Excuse me?” he asks, an edge of nervousness beginning to creep into his voice.

“I said,” the man says, finally standing up to his full height opposite Liam, “get in the car.” 

“And I said no” Liam responds, voice firm, hand on his gun again, “What part about that was unclear”

The man looks like he’s resisting the urge to rolls his eyes. “You can get your hand off your gun,” he smirks, “you’re a cop, you can’t shoot me.” His voice carries just a hint of smugness, and Liam is momentarily taken aback. Who the hell are these people? 

“Watch me.” Liam says, mouth set in a grim line.

The man sighs, hand moving to uncover where his own gun is hung beneath his arm. “Look mate, if the boss wanted you dead, you’d already be dead. We’re not that stupid, nothing’s going to happen to you, just get in the fucking car” 

Liam’s ears perk up at that phrase, the boss. He pauses. It’s a bad idea, he knows it’s a bad idea. Nothing about this is a good idea. Whoever this guy’s referring to, it’s at best some wannabe mobster and at worst, Malik himself. Based on how expensive that car is, somehow Liam’s guessing things sway more towards the later. 

And yet he’s intrigued. This guy clearly knows he’s a cop, and even Malik’s not stupid enough to kill a cop. The cop in him feels like this is too good of an opportunity to pass up. He’s never heard of anything like this happening before, and he can’t imagine what kind of lead this could potentially give him into his investigation. 

So against his better judgment, he steps forward, and gets into the car. The man gets into him, and raps twice on the partition, before the car starts moving. 

Suddenly, the nerves are back again, the fear. 

“Where are we going?” 

The man beside him smirks, “don’t worry about it” is all he says. The tone of his voice is sly, but with an edge of danger, just enough to put Liam on edge even more. 

It’s not long, maybe five minutes, before they’re pulling up somewhere and stopping. The door next to him is opened, and Liam finds himself looking at a club, and a nice one at that. 

“Come on,” the guy says, grabbing Liam’s arm and leading him inside. 

Liam’s eyes flit around frantically, well, at least they haven’t even tried to take his gun. What the hell kind of people are these guys anyway? 

He walks, or rather is pulled, inside, and stops to take in his surrounding as they enter the darkened interior inside. The lighting is dim, music is playing, everything looks almost normal, but the men lurking in the corners eyeing Liam suspiciously put Liam on edge. 

“Liam Payne, how nice of you to join us” comes a voice behind him. Liam turns, and is faced with a man slightly taller than him, lean, but clearly strong, with brown curly hair falling past his chin. “So glad you could make it.” The man continues, and his eyes are predatory as he takes Liam in, looking him up and down. 

Liam raises an eyebrow. “And you are….” He asks, arms crossed across his chest. 

“Oh don’t worry about me,” the man laughs almost good naturedly, but the glint is still in his eyes, something dark and dangerous that Liam isn’t used to. Isn’t sure that he likes. 

Before Liam knows it, the man is leading him further into the club, away from most of the guests and into a far more private seeming area. Liam takes the chance to take in his surroundings, the men standing in corners whispering amongst themselves, their eyes scanning the crowd below, lingering every few minutes on someone or another. 

Fuck, is that Louis Tomlinson? Liam remembers his picture from his briefing, Tomlinson, he thinks that’s his name at least. He’s pretty important from what Liam remembers. Fuck, the feeling of dread is settling in his stomach. Tomlinson is leaning against a wall a few feet away from Louis, his expression cool, but his eyes track Liam as the curly haired man guides him across the floor. He catches his grimace. Well, if Liam is where he thinks he is, he’s sure Tomlinson isn’t happy about this at all. 

Finally, they stop, and Liam realizes suddenly that the man who had been leading him seems to have disappeared all of a sudden. He spots him sidling up to Louis a second later, who pecks him with a quick kiss on the lips before turning his attention back to Liam. 

Liam looks around, and that’s when he sees him. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have known this man from anyone else on the street, but now…everything’s changed. 

Suddenly he’s now acutely aware of who the man in front of him is, aware of how much trouble he’s in. Because the man sitting in front of him is none other than Zayn Malik himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oohhh...what does Zayn want from poor Liam? What's going to happen next? Any ideas for what you'd like to see? 
> 
> Please please please let me know what you thought! I got way more comments on the last chapter than I was expecting; knowing y'all read and care about this story is what motivates me to keep going!
> 
> So again, kudos and comments are bae! 
> 
> Mwah! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a new chapter! Zayn and Liam finally meet.... ;) 
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think!

Liam’s eyes dart around the area he finds himself in quickly, but surreptitiously. He’s in a smaller area, away from the noise of the club downstairs, and there are far fewer people mingling in this area. In fact, the more he’s now looking around here, he’s sure it’s really just him and Zayn. 

There are other people around, to be sure, but a quick glance at the set of their shoulders, and the set of their mouths and it’s not difficult for Liam to glean what they’re here for; protection. And well...Liam’s not stupid. It’s not his protection they’re here for. 

Liam’s spine is taught, as his eyes continue to assess the situation around him. He’s on edge, he’s heard the stories, he’s pretty sure there’s no way he walks out of this unscathed. 

Finally, his settle back on Zayn. 

Liam gulps, he can’t help it. Zayn’s beautiful, gorgeous even, far more beautiful than the surveillance footage does him justice. He’s leaning casually against the bar, chatting quietly with the bartender. And fuck, he looks good. Liam can’t help himself, Zayn’s wearing a suit tailored so well Liam can’t even begin to imagine how much it cost, and fuck if he doesn’t look incredible. He’s strong, and lean, and his jawbone is sharp enough to kill someone, Liam’s sure of it. 

Zayn turns to look at Liam, and for the first time Liam finds himself suddenly caught in his eyes. He feels vulnerable, like Zayn’s sizing him up, prodding deep into his soul, knowing everything about him with nothing more than a look. 

“Liam Payne, just the man I wanted to see” 

Zayn’s voice is deep, rough, not at all what Liam was expecting, and fuck if it doesn’t make a shiver run down his spine for a different reason. 

Shit, he needs to focus. He’s alone in here, without any backup, and moreover, no one knows where he is. Malik’s on home turf, surrounded by men who are loyal to him. A quirk of his eyebrow, and he could quite literally make Liam disappear. 

But fuck, it’s so hard to focus when Zayn’s looking at him like that, with that deep prodding gaze that makes Liam feel almost naked, his gaze piercing and knowing somehow all at once. Liam feels like prey caught in the gaze of the predator. 

“What do you want?” Liam grits out, mouth set in a hard line. He knows he’s here for a reason, might as well get it out of the way so he can figure out what the hell’s going on. 

Zayn just smirks at him in response, leaning back against the bar casually in a way that he must know makes him look amazing. Dark, dangerous, and seductive, whisky glass in his hand and a glint in his eye. 

“Looks like Harry was right about you” he murmurs, taking a sip of his drink, his voice unfaltering in the face of Liam’s more aggressive tone. 

Liam cocks his head to the side. Who the hell is Harry? Zayn’s still smirking at him, that dangerous quirk of his lips that’s keeping Liam on edge. He gets the feeling Zayn isn’t going to tell him even if he asks. 

Zayn, for his part, is almost amused. He regards the cop in front of him with interest, a smile threatening to tug at his lips. Liam’s nervous, Zayn can tell. He’s doing a good job of hiding it, but Zayn’s been in this life long enough to tell when he’s getting to someone. Good. 

Zayn has all the power in this situation, and he knows it too. God, there are times he loves his job. This is going to be fun. 

“So a little birdie told me…” Zayn drawls, leading Liam to sit at the bar next to him. “That you caught an interesting new case this week”. His voice is smooth and seductive, but with an edge of something else, something that hadn’t been there before. Liam’s ears perk up. 

“What’s it to you? Bring me here to give me your confession?” He fires back, eyebrow cocked. 

Zayn smiles. He likes a man who gives as good as he gets. 

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to. Contrary to what you and your little friend over at the station believe, I didn’t actually do it.” 

Liam scoffs. “Sure, whatever you say. You drag me all the way down here to tell me that?” his arms are crossed against his chest, and he’s staring Zayn down. 

Zayn straightens, his gaze steely as he regards Liam sitting there next to him. 

“I’d watch it if I were you” he muses, taking another casual sip of his whisky. 

“That a threat?” Liam asks, mouth set in a hard line, and hand moving ever so slightly towards his gun. 

Zayn’s eyes track the movement, and he raises an unimpressed eyebrow. He smirks. 

“Of course not love, just a friendly reminder.” He winks.

Liam’s cool façade doesn’t betray how fast his heart is hammering in his chest. Zayn’s not at all what he expected. He’d excepted to be drug down and have someone beat the shit out of him under Zayn’s watchful eye, until he got whatever he wanted, but Zayn’s totally disarming him with he casual, almost flirtatious conversation. 

Zayn’s studying Liam carefully. He has to tread carefully here. This is the tricky part. 

“I actually have a proposition for you” he starts, turning to face Liam fully now. 

“Oh?” Liam asks, shoulders set squarely. “Would you like to tell me what it is, or should I just say no now?” Zayn chuckles quietly. 

“My you are feisty. I like that” He says, and his voice is back to that dark, seductive whisper which seems to glide across Liam’s skin and settle in his bones. 

Zayn leans in closer to Liam, ensuring only he can hear him, although Liam muses somewhat ironically that he doubts any of the others in the room are really listening to their conversation. Zayn’s the boss after all. 

“Like I said, a little birdie told me you’d caught an interesting case recently. As it so happens… I’m curious.” 

“You? Curious? About a Jane Doe found with her brains blown out in an alley somewhere? I don’t buy it.” 

Zayn’s face hardens, and Liam studies him carefully. But just as soon as it’s there, it’s gone again, and the glint is back in Zayn’s eyes. 

“Please, you’ve gotten nowhere. You don’t even know who she is. I have certain…information I’m willing to share with you. In exchange for something of course.” 

“And what exactly might that be…” Liam asks, sitting up straighter in his seat. He’s heard the stories of cops on the mob’s payroll, and he doesn’t intend to follow in their footsteps. 

“I want you to work for me. You’ll have access to anything you need, and in return, I expect to be kept informed of any developments, and you’ll stay out of my way. No one ever has to know Liam, and I promise no one will harm you if you’re working for me... I’m offering you a chance to solve your case, Liam, are you really going to pass that up?”

Liam gulps. He can’t, he should get out of there, but now he’s curious too. What the hell is Malik playing at? What could Liam have that he couldn’t already find out himself? 

“Why do you care?” Liam asks, incredulous. 

“Like I said,” Zayn says, and there’s that smirk again, “I’m curious.” 

That’s bullshit, Liam knows that’s bullshit. But he also knows that if Malik doesn’t want to tell him, there’s no way Liam’s going to be able to pry it out of him. Zayn’s the boss of the strongest family in New York…he’s been doing this for years. And he definitely knows what he’s doing. 

“No” Liam says, making his voice resolute, conveying a confidence he doesn’t feel. 

Zayn leans in, his eyes inquisitive, curious, and Liam’s drawn in by how they almost seem to glow in the dim light of the nightclub. 

“You’re forgetting who I am, babe” Zayn purrs, and somehow Liam’s both nervous, and getting hot under the collar at the same time. 

“What do you want, hmm?” Zayn murmurs, his voice low and seductive as he leans in to whisper in Liam’s ear. “Money? Power? Women? I can give you that…whatever you want babe, just name it, and it’s yours.” Zayn purrs in his ear, his hand coming to rest on Liam’s thigh. 

“N-no. Absolutely not. I’m a cop, you’re a, a c-criminal. Y-you don’t have anything that I want.” Liam stutters out, but his heart’s racing, and he curses himself that his voice doesn’t sound as confident as he intends. 

Zayn chuckles quietly, darkly, as he leans back a few inches. His mouth is curved in a wicked smirk, and his eyes are mischievous. He looks dangerous, like a cat, and Liam gulps. 

“Oh but I do babe,” Zayn continues, voice soft as silk, “everyone has a price. What’s yours Liam?” he asks, cocking his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing slightly in inquisition. Liam can feel Zayn’s eyes on his, looking him up and down, probing him, and he feels naked, vulnerable. 

He needs to get out of here. “Well I don’t.” He states, mentally congratulating himself on how confident his voice sounds. Zayn chuckles softly in response, “we’ll see about that” he murmurs, taking a sip of his whiskey as he peers up at Liam over the rim of his glass. Fuck, he looks gorgeous, Liam needs to get out now, or he’s going to do something he regrets. So he turns on his heel, and leaves. And to his absolute shock, Zayn lets him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooohhhh, is Zayn really going to let Liam walk away like that? Is Liam going to give in? 
> 
> On another note, I'm thinking of starting a one shot collection, would that be something y'all are interested in? Also make sure to check out my other series, it's a AU demon/hunter 'verse ;) 
> 
> Please please please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Kudos and comments absolutely make my day!! 
> 
> As always, feel free to tell me what should happen next! I love love love hearing y'alls ideas! 
> 
> Mwah! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! A new chapter! It's been a while...I'm the worst, I know
> 
> As always, please let me know what you thought!

Liam’s still shaken when he walks into the precinct the next morning. He shouldn’t do it, he knows he shouldn’t do it, why can’t he get this damn thing out of his head? Liam may not be in organized crime, but he’s also not an idiot, and he knows Zayn isn’t either. There’s no way Liam walks away from something like that unscathed. 

But to be honest, the whole thing has him thinking. Why does Malik need his help anyway? What advantage does Liam give him, that he doesn’t already have? Liam’s seen the surveillance, Malik’s organization is huge. Surely he could get someone else to go do his dirty work for him. Surely he didn’t need Liam…

The day progresses, and Liam finds himself lingering less and less on Malik’s offer. Which should be great, after all, he needs to be focusing on trying to figure out who the hell this Jane Doe is anyway. And yet it’s not. Because it’s not that Malik’s off his mind entirely, quite the opposite in fact. Liam can’t seem to get Zayn out of his head. 

In fact, by the end of the day it’s nearly all he can think about. Zayn’s lips, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, that wicked glint in his eye. How it felt to have Zayn whisper in his ear, like he was confiding in Liam, like he trusted him. Liam finds himself wanting that, more than anything; he wants to get under Zayns’ skin, to make Zayn give in, he wants to feel like Zayn trusts him. 

And for the life of him he can’t explain it. 

Fuck. 

Liam’s internal battle is abruptly interrupted by Reid’s shout at him from across the bullpen. 

“Payne! Look alive, Liza called, she needs us in autopsy.” 

Liam’s heart soars as he rushes to grab his gun and his ID badge, before following Reid down to the morgue. Forensics, he knew it would come down to this; it always does. He shouldn’t have worried. Sure, they didn’t get a hit on her prints, but that doesn’t leave them high and dry yet. Liza’s the best, she’ll come up with something.

They rush into autopsy almost like eager puppies, waiting to hear what latest miracle Liza’s worked for them. 

They soon come crashing to a halt. 

Liza’s standing there, in the middle of the autopsy room, next to the cadaver of their dead Jane Doe. And she doesn’t look happy. 

“Well, you too can quit your grumbling…I didn’t find anything.” Liza bites, clearly frustrated. At herself, or at the cadaver in front of her, Liam can’t tell.

“You couldn’t have called to tell us that?” Reid bites back, frustration seeping into his voice too.

Liza crosses her arms. “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. I didn’t find ANYTHING.” 

Liam resists the urge to roll his eyes. He can’t deal with Liza’s antics today, not when he’s still trying to process what the hell happened to him last night…

He takes a deep breath, and wells his own frustration down. “Okay,” he starts , “so there’s no DNA match, not like we haven’t encountered that before, we’ll just wait for the trace analysis to come back. There’s bound to be something there.” 

This time, Liza rolls her eyes. “No, that’s what I’m telling you. I already ran the trace analysis; There’s. Nothing. There.” 

Liam and Reid freeze. 

“There’s no way that’s possible” Reid finally stammers out, “that can’t be right.” 

“That’s what I thought too, so I ran the analysis again. Same thing. I even ran it a third time, and each time, I came up completely empty.” 

He almost feels like he can’t breaths. Nothing…nothing at all…how is that even possible? Trace analysis is incredibly specific, it doesn’t look for just DNA or fingerprints, it combs through everything from stray hairs found on the body, to smudges of dirt, to traces of other chemicals found on the body’s skin. 

It’s literally never happened before that they’ve run a trace and there’s been nothing. Sure, they run it and there’s often nothing out of the ordinary, but there is always, always something there. 

For someone to pull this off, killing a Jane Doe, wiping all the security footage, and managing not to leave literally any trace evidence behind…Liam can’t even fathom…who the hell is this person? 

I bet Zayn probably could think of a few people…a voice in the back of his head chimes up helpfully. 

Liam shakes his head, and he and Reid return to the bullpen in silence. Both of them so shocked they don’t even have the words to express…

Suddenly, Reid stops, turning back towards autopsy. “You said your friend, the tattoo guy? He said she might have an older piece under that tattoo on her arm, right?” 

“Yeah” Liam nods, that’s exactly what Nick had said. 

Reid grimaces, “it’s a long shot, but I’m going to go talk to Liza about that, see if there’s any way it’s possible to figure out what that original tattoo was.” 

Liam nods, it’s a good idea. It may be their only option.

Well…not your only option…that same voice in his head pipes up again, a voice that sounds suspiciously like the voice Zayn had used with him last night. 

“I’m going to go back up to the bullpen, go through the witness interviews again, make sure there isn’t anything we’ve missed.” Reid nods. 

Thirty minutes later, and Liam’s got nothing. He wills his eyes to focus, scanning over the document in front of him one more time. He’s re-reading their witness interviews from the docks, trying to find something, anything that might help him. And yet, as he reads the words over and over again, all he can see is the same phrase in front of him, on page after page. 

_I didn’t see anything_

It’s like it’s taunting him, those words on the pages that fill their file. Liam grimaces. The docks are Malik’s territory. Liam groans in frustration, this can’t be possible. A murder like this takes time, staging. Someone had to have been scouting the area for weeks finding all of those camera locations, to make sure they wiped them all. That sort of thing would take time, not to mention the actual staging of the body itself, and whatever they hell they did to get rid of the trace evidence. That area’s pretty densely populated, shit all of new york is, there’s just no way that no one in that entire area didn’t hear or see anything that was useful.

And yet there it is again. Those words on the page, taunting him…

_I didn’t see nothing_

It’s like Zayn’s toying with him on purpose. And Liam can see it, can see it in the glint in his eyes, could see it in the quirk of his smile last night, can picture Zayn’s face in front of his, leaning in….

He needs to snap himself out of this. 

Malik had offered to help him, had offered him the key to solving his case. He’d almost acted like he knew who their Jane Doe was….then again, there’s always the possibility that he killed her himself. But something about that just feels…off to Liam. I mean for God’s sake, she had been wearing Malik’s mark. It seems like it makes more sense he knew her some other way. 

Was she part of the family? A sister maybe? But she wasn’t in any of the surveillance footage…

Liam wants to tear his hair out. Honestly there’s a part of him that just wants to give up, he could easily just mark this one unsolvable and move on. Add it to the cold case files, and take something else. But there’s something about this that keeps drawing him in….something weird is going on here, he can feel it. And fuck, he wants to get to the bottom of it. 

He closes his eyes, and all he can see in his head is Zayn’s face, inches from his, that wicked smirk on his face, mystery in his eyes. 

Taunting him again, Liam can feel it. 

_Everyone has a price Liam, what’s yours?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Love it? Hate it? Somewhere in between? 
> 
> I've been struggling with some writer's block recently, but I think I have a pretty good idea now of what's coming in the next few chapters, so I hope to have those out with less of a break in between <3
> 
> As always, please please please let me know what you thoughts, kudos and comments are BAE! They make my writer's heart sing with joy! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter! This somewhat changes things, has Zayn finally found Liam's price? 
> 
> As always, please let me know what you thought!

Harry walks into Zayn’s office, his long strides confident, sure. He nods at the guards standing outside the door, who return his nod as they move aside, letting him pass through easily. 

He knocks twice, more out of courtesy than anything else, since he’s already through the door before Zayn even has a chance to bark out that he can enter. 

“Anything new?” Zayn asks, a quirk to his brow as he regards Harry coolly. It’d taken Harry months, almost a year to stop being afraid of that expression. Zayn’s mask of cool indifference he wears so frequently. That utterly calm, cool gaze of his eyes, the set of his mouth that was just too soft to be considering a grimace. Harry’s seen that look more times than he can count, and it took him months, and a very…persuasive conversation with his husband before he learned that it wasn’t anything for him to be afraid of. 

Someone else, sure. But one of his capos? Zayn wasn’t trying to intimidate him, Zayn trusted him with his life…literally. But Zayn, just like everyone else in this game wore a mask. A mask to deceive, to hide his true emotions. Because in their world, those emotions were weakness. 

Emotions have a tendency to override rationality, they throw level headed decisions out the window. And in this world, this world where it sometimes felt like they were constantly under threat from every side, one mistake could bring it all crumbling down and have you at the bottom of the east river faster than you could blink.

It took experience to read Zayn. To see what was buried beneath that mask of cool indifference, to see what lay within. Luckily, Harry had developed that particular skill set. He’s Zayn’s intelligence capo, it’s literally his job to know everything, and that especially includes people’s secrets. Those little things everyone squirrels away deep within themselves, praying they never see the light of day. Harry loves secrets. Whoever said knowledge was power almost had it, but Harry’s learned over the years that old adage isn’t quite true. 

_Secrets_ are power. 

Secrets have a funny way of…motivating people. If you want to stay on top, you have to know more about everyone around you than anyone else knows about you. In their world, secrets are the most valuable thing you can learn about a person.

And he’s found one of Liam’s. 

“I’ve got something on Payne” 

Harry can’t quite keep the smirk out of his voice, as he watches Zayn perk up in his chair. 

“Oh? Something we can use?” Zayn drawls, his voice unfaltering. But his eyes give him away, they’re burning with curiosity. 

See, there’s a lot they can do, sure. Honestly, they definitely have a better shot at solving this than Liam does. After all, Zayn has an entire criminal network at his disposal, and his network is stronger, smarter, and more far-reaching than anyone else’s. And unlike Liam and the NYPD, they aren’t bound by the same….well laws that Liam is. That’s why Zayn’s on top, after all. 

But utilizing the full reach of those resources is hard to do quietly, and they need to keep this close to their chests on this one. They all know Zayn will tear this whole damn city apart if he needs to to find Sarah’s killer, but with the Irish threatening their southern border, and a threat this direct, they needed to avoid major gestures of force. They need to figure out what the hell’s going on first.

And so that’s where Liam comes in. No one will raise an eyebrow at a detective investigating this murder, after all, that’s his job. It gives them the perfect cover. 

They just need Payne to agree to do it.

“Start talking” Zayn barks, leaning back in his chair, eyebrow quirked inquisitively.

“Sure thing, boss” Harry says, only a hint of cockiness in his tone. God he loves this, loves being the person in the room who knows more than anyone else. He lives for it.

“About five years back, Payne’s parents were both well, murdered. Cops never caught the guy, case went cold. He took it pretty hard, it’s why he decided to become a cop.” 

“So what, he’s fucking batman or something?” Zayn bites back, sarcasm evident in his tone. “I fail to see your point here”

“ _So_ ” Harry continues, “you said you wanted to know what he’s been hiding? He’s never told anyone else he works with about it, keeps the whole thing real close to his chest. Doesn’t seem like anyone he knows even knows this happened.” 

“And you think we can use it as leverage”

“Think about it boss. Case or no, he always keeps that file with him in his desk, reads through it in his spare time looking for something someone missed. You and I both know that with our…lack of restrictions, we could almost definitely find out who whacked them.”

“And you think he’ll go for that?”

Harry scoffs, “would I be sitting here on a Sunday morning if I didn’t?” Now it’s his turn to smirk. 

“Hell of a job, as always Harry. How the hell’d you even find this” Zayn asks, chuckling softly in almost disbelief. He really should be used to it by now, but Harry never ceases to amaze him. Zayn swears, he knows everything.

A smirk tugs at the corner of Harry’s mouth in response. 

“I don’t kiss and tell” he answers with a wink.

“Good job Harry, you’re free to go home to your husband” Zayn responds, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. Harry gets up to leave.

“If this doesn’t work, Louis is going to kill you” Zayn calls after him as he makes his way to the door of Zayn’s office. “I’m sure this little meeting interrupted whatever dirty, depraved things he’d undoubtedly planned on spending his Sunday morning doing.” 

Harry turns around as he reaches the door, coat in his hand, gun hanging from his shoulder harness. The air of cockiness suits him, that jut of his chin and the wicked spark in his eyes. He laughs, “oh you have no idea” he says, with a raise of his eyebrows. 

Zayn laughs too, he doesn’t want to know. 

Not a minute later, and he’s marching out his office as well, guards barking orders into their earpieces as they move around him, having the car pulled around, and checking to make sure their guns are loaded. 

“Niall, find Payne. I need to talk to him” Zayn’s phone is pressed to his ear as he exits into the waiting car.

“Sure thing boss, I’ll send someone to pick him up.” 

“No, go yourself.” Zayn counters, mouth quirking into a smirk he knows Niall can’t see. “If he’s going to be in on this with us, the two of you should get acquainted, don’t you think?” 

He hears Niall chuckle on the other end of the line. 

“Sure thing boss, I’ll make sure he’s in the club tonight before you get there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Love it? Hate it? Have an idea of where it should go from here?
> 
> Please, please please, let me know in comments below!! I absolutely LOVE hearing y'alls thoughts, ideas, and opinions, it gives me inspiration and is honestly the best part of this.
> 
> Comments and kudos are BAE!! And I hope y'all are all having a wonderful holiday season <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So couple things:
> 
> 1\. I recently received a request for some Larry smut, so that's a significant part of what this chapter is. I had what I thought could be a fun idea and then...well...things got slightly out of hand. Like 3,000 words out of hands haha. WHOOPS!! Anyways I hope y'all enjoy!!
> 
> 2\. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT. Just fair warning if that's not your thing and 
> 
> 3\. This chapter is definitely longer, and I'm going to try to make further chapters longer than they have been as well. Since I'm just now realizing I have a lot of different things I'd like to explore and I don't want this to me a million chapters long haha
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy!! As always, please let me know what you thought!

Harry walks through his door tired, but happy. After his little chat with Zayn this morning, he’d had to run into his office for a bit to get some other things handled. Sure, it was technically his day off, but they’d had an altercation in one of their clubs last night, and well, Harry thought it was rude to keep that guy in the basement for any longer. 

He swings through their entryway into the living room, where Louis’ sitting on the couch, cuddled up underneath a heavy blanket, watching of all things….the Great British bakeoff. Harry scoffs quietly. God he loves Louis, but he swears the man is a walking contradiction sometimes. 

“What?!” Louis asks, turning at Harry’s scoff to see his husband standing behind him, chuckling. 

“Nothing Lou, it’s just this is kind of a weird scene to walk into, your husband sitting here wearing a shoulder holster with a handgun strapped in it, sitting on your couch casually watching bake off of all things” He teases, moving to sit next to Louis on the couch.

“What’s wrong with bake off?” Louis exclaims, and he looks happy, content. Harry wishes he could keep him here like this, forever. Happy and safe in their apartment, without a care in the world, just the two of them tucked away from all the chaos and violence of the outside world. 

But a quick glance at the gun still hanging from Louis’ shoulder holster, and the feeling of the weight of his own weapon holstered at his side reminds him again of the impossibility of that. He loves his job, honestly wouldn’t trade it for the world, but sometimes he just wishes he could take a break from it all, and be normal for a few hours, just alone at home with his husband. 

Instead, they’re both sitting in an apartment on a secured floor, still both packing weapons, surrounded by bulletproof glass and a state of the art security system, not to mention the two body guards that, while not physically in their apartment with them, are never more than a few seconds away. 

But Harry’s content with his life, it’s challenging, and it excites him, and it brought him to Louis, and that’s something he wouldn’t trade for the world. 

Louis interrupts his thoughts, as he leans into Harry’s side, now sitting on the couch. “How did it go with Zayn this morning?” He asks, and there’s an edge to his voice, an edge Harry can’t quite decipher. He’s not sure if it’s that Louis’ still concerned about Zayn emotionally, or if he’s really still this uncomfortable with this whole Liam thing. 

When Zayn had presented them with the idea to go after Payne, Louis hadn’t been happy about it at all. Harry didn’t blame him. After all, inviting a cop into their world, and giving him any kind of access, much less the access Zayn was suggesting was risky to put it lightly. Most would have called it downright insane. But Louis also recognized that they needed to find Sarah’s killer, not only because they wanted revenge, but also because it was probably a warning of a much, much bigger threat on the horizon. One that they couldn’t afford to ignore. 

And Zayn was the boss, after all, which meant that what he said happened. Period. No questions asked. Louis understood Zayn’s reasoning, but he still wasn’t thrilled about the idea. 

“It went well actually” Harry said, pressing a kiss to the top of Louis’ head and feeling the soft strands underneath his lips. His lips curve into a smirk as he continues, “He said to tell you he’s sorry for interrupting…hmm what was it? Whatever dirty, depraved things you’d planned on spending your Sunday morning doing? Yeah, that was it” 

Louis laughs, short and bright. “Yeah, well he’s not the only one who should be sorry” he teases, mischief in his eyes as he presses a kiss to the sensitive place behind Harry’s ear. “If I recall correctly, you quite enjoy the dirty, depraved things I was planning on spending my Sunday morning doing” His grin is dirty and sharp, and Harry’s sure his expression mirrors his husband’s beside him; utterly wicked. 

“Besides, it’s not like any of this is going to work anyways. Payne’s never going to agree to do this.” Louis continues. 

Harry resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Please,” he scoffs, “with the way he was looking at Zayn, there’s no way he’s going to hold out. I’m not saying it’s going to happen overnight, but Payne’ll agree to whatever Zayn wants from him if Zayn keeps looking like that at the bar”

Louis snaps around to face Harry on the couch, lips cracking into a half smile as he chuckles lightly in disbelief. 

“Are you kidding me?” He exclaims, “I don’t care how good you look, you can’t seduce a cop into basically joining the mob! Especially not someone like Payne, didn’t you tell me your guy down in homicide says he’s notoriously straight laced?!” 

“He did. Doesn’t mean it can’t be done though. Did you see how they were staring at each other? Payne’s definitely going to cave” 

Louis cocks an eyebrow at him, chin jutting out cockily. Fuck, Harry thinks, that air of cockiness definitely suits him. He looks hot. “Fine,” he says, wicked smirk fixed to his lips as he extends his right hand towards his husband “put your money where your mouth is. $100 bucks.” 

Now it’s Harry’s turn to return Louis’ smirk as his eyes narrow in challenge. “You’re on” he answers, voice confident and sure as they shake on it. 

“Besides,” he continues, “I could do it. I’m sure Zayn can too” 

“What do you mean you could do it?” 

“I mean I could seduce a cop to come work for us. Just like Zayn’s going to seduce Liam” 

Now it’s Louis turn to roll his eyes. “Harry, I love you, but even you and all your charms couldn’t flip a cop.” 

“Wanna bet on _that_?” Harry asks, eyes twinkling wickedly. 

Louis scoffs, “Harry, we are not going to risk exposure by having you try to seduce _another_ cop. Payne’s plenty of risk all on his own.” 

“Fine then, you’ll have to do it” Harry’s expression is positively devious, as his eyes drop briefly to Louis’ lips. 

“Excuse me?” Louis asks, and it’s only a second before he catches on.

“I mean you be the cop, and I’ll be, well, me. And we’ll see if I can…convince you to come work for me” 

Louis breaks into a grin “You’re on Styles” 

10 minutes later, and Louis is sitting on a barstool in his kitchen, and he’s beginning to regret those words. He’s sipping on a glass of scotch he has in front of him, and Harry’s dimmed their kitchen lights to a low glow, not, Louis muses, unlike one of their clubs. 

And then there’s Harry himself. He’s put his jacket back on, and he’s leaning against the counter across from Louis, his own tumbler of scotch in his hand as his gaze slides up and down Louis’ body. And fuck, he looks good. He looks pressed to perfection, jacket crisp where it clings to his lean frame. It’s the kind of build Louis has always admired, and it belies the physical strength Louis knows first hand lies beneath. As Harry shifts ever so slightly, Louis catches glimpses of the gun at Harry’s hip, and it shouldn’t contribute to the growing heat in Louis gaze, but it does. 

Harry looks dangerous and wicked, every bit the ruthless mobster he’s made out to be. 

The top button of his shirt is undone, just enough to give Louis a tease of what he knows lies beneath, and even that little bit of skin is making his mouth water with want. Fuck, he may have made a mistake betting against his husband. 

He raises an eyebrow, waiting. Daring Harry to make the first move. Harry, for his part, doesn’t hesitate. 

“Louis Tomlinson, just the man I wanted to see” he purrs over the rim of his glass, and his voice has an edge of danger too. It compliments the look he’s giving Louis perfectly, full of wicked intentions and temptations. 

“What can I do for you tonight Mr. …?” Louis trails off, his own smirk gracing his lips, trying his best to make his voice sound coy, but with an air of indifference. As though he’s disaffected by the situation playing out in front of him. He can play this game of Harry’s too. 

“Styles” Harry answers, mouth sliding into a smirk as he meets Louis’ gaze head on. Powerful without being intimidating, the kind of gaze that was so intensely focused, it made Louis feel as though he truly had Harry’s full attention. As though he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Hmm, Styles. Familiar name.” 

Harry rounds the island to sit beside Louis, inserting himself gracefully into his personal space in a way that would feel totally innocent, if Louis didn’t know him better. 

“I would imagine it would be, to someone like you.” 

“Someone like me?” Louis asks, voice perfectly innocent as he schools his expression into one of surprise, as though he doesn’t very well know what Harry is talking about. 

“A cop” Harry responds, taking a sip of his drink only to look at Louis over the rim of his glass. Louis leans back in his chair, rounding to face Harry completely as he crosses his arms across his chest, feeling the knock of his shoulder holster against his elbow as he does so. 

“So Mr. Styles,” he drawls, hardening his stare, “what’s a cop like me doing here with someone like you?” 

“Oh come now, don’t be like that” Harry purrs, chuckling lightly, almost breathily, and Louis notices his hand has snuck its way onto Louis’ knee. Louis doesn’t respond, simply arches an unimpressed eyebrow as he cocks his head to the side…waiting. 

Harry sighs. “Well, if you insist on skipping the foreplay, and getting straight down to business I suppose we could do that” he husks out, eyes sliding to Louis’ lips languidly. Louis, for his part, is certainly aware of Harry’s innuendo, but isn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “Although…” Harry drawls, never one to let Louis off easy, “the buildup _is_ my favorite part” he lilts, voice soft and husky, like crushed velvet over Louis’ skin.

“I have a proposition for you” 

“Do you now? Not anything I’d be interested in, I’m sure” 

Harry chuckles again in response. “And here I haven’t even told you what it is yet” he teases, as his tongue flits out to lick his lips minutely, and Louis eyes are drawn to track the action. He takes another sip of his drink, the amber liquid illuminated in the dim lights overhead. 

Louis’ glance flits down to Harry’s gun quickly, minutely, as he would if he was assessing a threat. But Harry’s in this life too, and he’s remarkable at reading people. “Is this making you uncomfortable?” He asks, gesturing to the weapon holstered at his hip. “I’m not going to hurt you” he lilts, voice sincere and enticing, “but I can take it off if you like.” He continues, mouth smiling softly, a wicked glint gleaming in his eye. “In fact, I’m happy to remove anything that makes you feel uncomfortable Louis…just say the word, and it’s gone.” He finishes with a wink, which ordinarily Louis would find horribly cheesy, but Harry pulls it off in a way that somehow manages to make him hot under the collar. 

“I’m fine” Louis grits out tightly. His husband smirks in response. 

“If you say so” he murmurs. 

“So this proposition…” Louis continues, getting them back on track. He’s getting hot under the collar, and if he’s being honest he’d really like to just skip ahead to the part where he’s pressing Harry up against a wall, but Harry wasn’t lying about what he said earlier. Harry spent much of his life as a con man, which means he was absolutely right, he _did_ love the build up, the tease. And as much as Louis wants to skip ahead to the ending here, he knows when his husband sets his mind to something, he’s not letting go. Plus, there isn’t a bone in his body that isn’t competitive; he wants to _win_.

“What exactly does it entail?” 

“And here I thought you weren’t even interested, love” Harry teases, voice husky and deep as his hand slides slightly further up the inside of Louis’ thigh. 

Louis grits his teeth. For as good as Harry looks, Louis remembers he’d once told him it was the voice that sold a con. It was the voice that persuaded, that expressed, that tempted…and fuck if Harry wasn’t using his to its full advantage right now. 

Louis swallows once, before continuing “I’m not, just figured I’d give you the chance to air out whatever you wanted to talk about? I’m already here, if there’s anything you feel like confessing to” Louis’ smile is almost saccharine, and he waits for Harry’s response. 

“Well, since you seem on insisting we cut straight to it, here it is. I want you to come work for me.” 

Louis arches an eyebrow. “Really now” he drawls, slowly, almost sarcastically, the way he imagines a cop might actually if he were in this situation. “And why would I do that?” 

Now it’s Harry’s turn to smirk. He slips his hand further up Louis’ thigh, until it’s resting just shy of where he knows Louis wants it the most. He leans in, invading Louis’ personal space, as he bends down to whisper in his ear. 

“Because I can give you anything you want” His voice is husky and smooth, and it positively melts into Louis’ skin, and settles somewhere in his core. 

“Anything?” Louis asks curiously, chin jutted out in a challenge. 

“Anything at all” He purrs, voice just as enticing at it had been a minute ago. He’s no longer whispering directly into Louis’ ear, but he’s still squarely in Louis’ space, and Louis gaze drops to Harry’s lips, barely centimeters away from his. 

“I doubt that very, _very_ much” Louis whispers in Harry’s mouth, and God, he wants. He wants to kiss Harry so badly, wants to press their bodies together, he wants to feel Harry’s mouth around his cock. 

Harry presses forward slowly, deliberately, moving their lips together as he kisses him fully, deeply. His kiss is coaxing, playful, and he makes Louis do most of the work. He wants Louis to feel that desperation, to know that Harry’s the cause of it. To know that he’s giving in. That he’s going to _lose_.

He slides his hand up Louis’ thigh further, until it finally comes to rest over the hard outline of Louis’ cock, giving him a soft squeeze through his trousers. Louis groans, his head falling forward to rest on Harry’s shoulder. 

“Is this what you want, Louis?” he ponders softly, wickedly, mouth moving to kiss at the sensitive place behind Louis’ ear. Louis moans full out at that, fuck, he can’t contain himself anymore. Fuck this game they’re playing, he’s desperate. His husband is sitting in front of him, still looking utterly devilish in his delight, and it’s making Louis harder than he could have imagined it would. Harry looks dark, and dangerous, and fuck if that isn’t impossible to resist. With his voice dark, and deep, full of wicked promises and a mischievous glint in his eye, Louis wonders how any of his marks have ever done anything other than fall so completely under his spell. 

“Yes, fuck yes” He finally gets out, and his voice is breathy and fucked out sounding already. 

Before he knows it, they’ve somehow made it into their bedroom, and Harry has managed to get his shirt off. Louis reaches out frantically to undo the buttons of Harry’s as well, and he almost crows in delight as that tight, pressed white shirt finally falls to the ground, and Louis is treated to the expanse of skin underneath. 

Their pants follow soon after, and before long it’s just the two of them naked and hard in their bed, Louis gasping desperately as Harry sucks what are sure to be bruises into his neck. 

“God, Harry, please” he grits out, hips grinding upwards in a desperate bout for something, anything against his aching cock. Harry obliges, cocky smirk on his face. 

“You’ll have to open me up, first” he purrs, moving Louis’s fingers to Harry’s own hole, already wet with lube. Louis doesn’t waste any time, plunging two fingers into Harry right away and relishing in the groan he emits in response. Harry’s always liked it a little bit rough, and Louis sets a punishing pace. 

It’s not long before Harry’s groans take on a particularly pained edge, and that’s when Louis knows he’s found it. That magical little nub inside of him that makes Harry’s tight walls clench around his fingers even more desperately. Now it’s Louis’ turn to smirk as he rubs Harry mercilessly, watching as he positively writhes on top of him. 

Louis is up to three fingers now, and it’s barely a minute later before Harry’s hastily moving backwards, taking Louis’ cock into his hand. 

Louis groans, hips flying off the bed as Harry pumps him slowly, teasingly, before finally sinking down on top of him. His hands shift to Harry’s hips, gripping frantically in an attempt to get Harry to _move_. It’s torturous, feeling those tight walls grip him, and yet knowing there isn’t’ anything he can do about it yet. To have to just sit there and wait….

He looks up as Harry begins to shift his hips, to see him smirking above him. Teasing him, even now, even though Harry himself must be desperate. God Harry loved this, loved the feeling of power that ran through his veins as he began to move, watching his husband come apart beneath him. 

“You feel so good inside me” he leans down to purr into Louis’ ear, and Louis groans, deep and guttural. Fuck, he’d always had a thing for dirty talk, and Harry knew it too, used it to his advantage. “Filling me up just the way I like it…” Fuck, Louis can feel himself hurtling towards that edge, towards falling over faster and faster, when suddenly…

Harry stops. Returns to just shifting his hips tortuously slowly, back and forth, back and forth on top of Louis. 

“You must be so close too” Harry whispers in his ear. “Just say the word, and you can come” he purrs, lifting himself up once, just to sink back down tortuously slowly. 

What the hell is Harry talking about? Louis struggles to put the pieces together through the haze of pleasure clouding his mind as Harry continues to shift ever so slightly on top of him, keeping him just at the edge of release, and yet not allowing him to actually tip over that edge. 

His mind clicks into place, and he groans. He was wrong to think Harry would forget, Harry was determined, and competitive. It was one of the many things that made him so good at his job. Louis grits his teeth, he doesn’t want to lose is the thing, but he wants to come so badly…

“Just one little word, that’s all it takes” Harry taunts, his voice syrupy smooth as it washes through Louis’s system. He fucks down hard one more time, and words come spilling out of Louis’ mouth before he even realizes it. 

“Ugh fine, you win” he lets out, head collapsing back against the pillows behind him. God he feels like he’s on fire, he hopes he and Harry never stop doing this, he doesn’t think he’d survive. 

The words have barely even left his lips before Harry’s back to fucking down on him fast and hard, moaning as he too is hurtled towards that edge. Louis comes with a shout, hips flying up as his fingers dig into Harry’s hips. And that slight edge of pain is all it takes, and seconds later Harry’s coming too. 

He rolls over when he gets sensitive, moving to lie next to his husband in their bed, both of them sweaty and spent. 

“See?” he teases, moving to give Louis a peck on the lips, “I told you I could do it” 

Louis scoffs, “I hardly doubt that’s what Zayn’s planning on doing with Liam, love” but he’s smiling too, smiling at this idiot who he’s lucky enough to call his. Who he gets to come home to. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong though. Get that hundred bucks ready, Lou. Liam’s going down.” 

Louis laughs quietly, maybe Harry is right. But God help them all if he is, because if Harry’s right, his life is about to become a whole _hell_ of a lot more complicated…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Love it? Hate it? Have an idea? 
> 
> Let me know in the comments below!! Which brings me to....
> 
> I'm looking for someone I can kind of bounce ideas off of for this story. Not necessarily a full beta, but I have some ideas for things going forward and I kind of need someone to tell me if those are stupid/help me figure out some details. If you're interested please let me know! You can comment and/or my kik is pbarfic9, same as here :) 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are BAE!! They make my little writer's heart sing with joy!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! An update!!! This one is LONG too, I know it's been a while since I've updated (I'm sorry!!), so I wanted to make sure this one was long enough to hopefully be worth the wait! 
> 
> As always, please let me know what you thought! Comments and kudos are bae!

Liam rubs his eyes. It’s been a long day, he feels like he’s been staring at those witness statements for hours, what felt like years. And still, he’s gotten nowhere. Shit, he doesn’t even know her name. 

As he stands there on the sidewalk in the cold, grey afternoon, he considers his options. He normally takes the subway, it’s cheaper and well, Liam likes to think of himself as environmentally conscious and all that. But today, he just wants to be home. He’s tired and frustrated, and doesn’t think he can deal with the hordes of people packed around him during rush hour this evening. 

So he steps up to the curb to call a cab instead. He’s just raised his arm out towards the street, motioning one of the thousands of little yellow painted cars his way, when suddenly a black car pulls up in front of him instead. The passenger rolls down the window. Liam peers in, but it’s hard to tell who the car’s occupants are, the windows are heavily tinted, and Liam can’t really get a good look. 

“You Liam Payne?” A gruff voice calls out from the passenger seat. The voice is rough, to the point, and the hairs on the back of Liam’s neck begin to stand up. He doesn’t recognize the voice, but its tone sounds oddly familiar. Familiar like the man who’d summoned Liam to Zayn’s social club a few days ago had sounded. 

“Listen man, I’m just looking for a cab, so if you could-“

“Get in.” 

The man cuts him off, and Liam’s taken aback. He’s not an idiot, and given his experience a few days ago, he’s almost positive he knows where this is going. But damnit it’s been a long day, he’s annoyed, and to be honest, he’s just not really in the mood today. 

Liam scoffs. “Look, I’m going home. If you need to talk to me, you’ll have to find some other time” he grits out, turning to leave. 

“Get in the fucking car Liam” he hears from behind him. 

And this voice is different. It’s not coming from the passenger seat anymore, but rather from the back of the car. It’s muffled, but Liam can make out an accent, it sounds…Irish? A shiver of something Liam would rather not consider runs down his spine. Irish….wasn’t Zayn’s underboss Irish? He stops in his tracks. 

Suddenly all his visions of a peaceful night at home have flown out the window. He sighs. He really doesn’t want to do this right now. 

But smart men don’t say no to Niall Horan. 

But a part of him is still unsure. After all, he hasn’t even responded to Zayn’s….proposition. There’s no way he would send his underboss himself to come pick Liam up. Some underling, Liam would understand, but Niall Horan wasn’t just anyone. Niall Horan was the second in command. 

He could probably have Liam killed in an instant if he gave him a reason to. Like not getting into a car, for example. 

So Liam turns on his heel, and makes his way back to the black car still parked beside the curb. He opens the back seat door, and slides in, still unsure of what he’s going to see when he gets inside. 

The car itself is nice, spacious, to be honest it’s the exact kind of car he’d been expecting Zayn to send, if Zayn did send for him again. 

But what he wasn’t expecting, was the car’s occupants. It turns out Liam’s not bad on his feet, he wasn’t wrong. And he was right to turn around. Because there, sitting calmly in the back seat of the car, in a crisp white shirt and tailored black pants, gun strapped to his hip…is Niall Horan himself. 

Jesus. If Malik keeps this up, Liam’s going to have a heart attack.

“Liam Payne, nice to meet you. Name’s Niall Horan” Niall extends his hand out between the two of them, and Liam takes a moment to contemplate the absurdity of his situation. Here he is, a cop with the NYPD, sitting in the back of a mobster’s town car, about to shake hands with one of the highest ranking members of organized crime in the city. What the hell is his life turning into….

He resists the urge to say he knows who Horan is, and instead simply extends his own hand, their handshake spanning the gap between the two of them like a bridge between worlds. 

He’s not even going to bother asking where they’re going, Horan’s not going to tell him anyway. So instead, he takes a moment to watch the lighted streets roll past their dark windows, before turning back to address Zayn’s underboss. 

“You know in the future, you guys can just call, right?” 

He’s expecting a sneer, a grimace, a roll of Niall’s eyes. What he isn’t expecting, is for Niall to throw his head back in laughter. His laugh is deep and genuine, the kind that puts you at ease, and Liam finds himself cracking a smile at his own quip. 

“You clearly don’t know the boss very well.” He finally answers, turning to face Liam. “He’s always been a bit…unpredictable” he finishes with a wink. “Comes in handy in our line of work” 

“Why you this time? Am I moving up in the world?” Liam drawls almost sardonically. Horan seems actually to be a pretty decent guy, but his presence here is still kind of freaking Liam out. Why him? There’s no reason to expose someone so important to your organization without a reason….something must be going on. Something’s changed. 

“The boss thought we should get acquainted” is the only response he gets. 

Liam scoffs. “You guys are pretty trusting pretty fast. I mean for all you know, I could be wearing a wire right now” 

Niall turns to look at him with a single raised eyebrow and a hint of a smirk. “You aren’t” he says confidently. 

“How could you possibly know that?” 

This time, Niall’s mouth does break into a smirk, as his eyes narrow slightly to look Liam up and down. “You haven’t met Harry yet, have you?” he asks. He laughs quietly in the face of Liam’s silence, “yeah, thought so” 

That doesn’t really answer his question, but Liam lets it slide. The fact is, Niall’s right. He’s _not_ wearing a wire. As a cop, he really should be. Should have told his captain immediately when Zayn approached him. Should be trying to use this opportunity to help take this family down. 

But he’s not. And for the life of him, Liam couldn’t tell you why. 

Finally, the car stops. The door opens, and Liam gets out to find himself outside of what looks almost like a bar. The lights are dim, and there’s jazz playing softly from somewhere inside. He’s in an unfamiliar part of town, it’s dark out, only sparse groups of people moving about the sidewalks. 

They’re standing on the curb, when Niall turns to face him. “Wait here a second” he instructs, before moving inside the bar. Liam notices the other men with him move with him, seamlessly, like they’re his shadow. Far enough not to be intrusive, but close enough that no one’s ever going to get the impression that Horan is alone. That he’s unprotected. Bodyguards, if Liam had to guess. 

And so Liam’s left there, standing outside a by all accounts seedy bar in an unfamiliar part of the city, surrounded by nothing but shadows. When suddenly, it looks like one of those shadows starts to move. Liam watches slowly, an uneasy feeling creeping up his spine, as three men emerge from the alley directly across the street from him. 

They flit across the street quickly, easily. Like the area is familiar. They look like cats in familiar hunting territory, and Liam’s increasingly fraught with the unnerving feeling that he’s the mouse. 

They’re not quite running, but not walking either, their black clothes and thin jackets moving easily as they do. It’s not more than a minute, less even, before they’ve reached Liam’s side of the street.

Before they reach Liam. 

Liam finds himself standing up, straightening himself from where he’d been leaning against the wall of the bar. He’s a few feet from the entrance, and can just make out their faces in the soft, neon glow it emits. 

“Who the hell are you?” One of them starts, looking Liam up and down almost accusatorily. “You aren’t from around here” he sneers, and there’s no mistaking the icy moment of terror that spreads down the back of Liam’s neck.

The thing is, Liam’s not stupid. He may not know exactly what neighborhood he’s in, but outside of Zayn Malik’s social club, he knows enough to know these three are almost certainly packing heat. Heat they have few qualms about using against anyone they perceive as a threat. Like the unfamiliar stranger hanging outside a respected and feared mob boss’ bar, for example. With an NYPD issued weapon in his holster. 

And Liam knows he would be within his legal right to defend himself if they attacked him. But he also knows that around here, those same laws don’t really protect him. Sure, Malik had had him brought down here, but it’s not like he can just say that right? It’s not like they’re going to believe him are they? 

And if something did happen, it’s not like this whole situation would be easy for Liam to explain. Sitting here outside a known mobster’s bar, alone, at night, without his partner, and without anyone at the station knowing what he’s doing there or what’s going on. Having been driven there by the underboss of New York’s most well known crime family. That’s the kind of situation that doesn’t look good on an incident write up. The kind he knows would get written up if anything happened here. 

But beyond that, Liam finds himself suddenly completely out of his depth. His whole life, Liam has always known his place in the world. Son. Cop. It wasn’t hard to delineate himself into those roles. He knew what was expected of him. 

But here, in the darkening night, standing waiting to meet the most notorious criminal in New York….for the first time he doesn’t know what his role is.

Is he a detective here? Liam’s almost certain the answer is no, that the law he serves to protect ceased to protect him the minute he got into the car with Niall Horan. 

But if he’s not that, what is he? What is his role in this whole crazy, messed up world he’s stumbled into? Is he allowed to pull his weapon? Or will that violate some kind of unspoken rule. A rule which Liam, being completely unaware of its existence, might pay for breaking with his life. 

These questions run through Liam’s a mile a minute. And yet they remain just that – questions. Questions he doesn’t know the answers to, can’t know the answers to. And so he finds himself with no choice, but to answer the three men standing opposite him menacingly. 

“I’m here to see someone” He responds. Mobsters aren’t big on gratuitous details. 

“Cleaned up, preppy boy like you here to see someone in this neighborhood?” the second man scoffs, “I don’t think so”

And that’s the problem. For as much as Liam doesn’t know the rules of this crazy world he’s found himself in, these three clearly do. And Liam knows that the slightest misstep could be a costly mistake indeed. Even a deadly one. 

“Listen, what I’m doing here is none of your business” he grits out, trying to make himself more imposing as he does so. He tries to make his own voice rougher, more threatening. The kind of persona these men might respect enough to leave be. 

“The hell it isn’t” the first one spits. Clearly, Liam’s attempts at making that he belongs here are failing miserably. 

“So I’m gonna ask you again” the man states, voice deadly calm as Liam hears a gun being pulled from its holster. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

Click.

The sound of a safety being pulled off, as Liam’s suddenly staring down the barrel of a handgun is well, not what Liam had been expecting when Niall said he’d be back in a minute. 

He starts to reach for his own weapon, but before he can so much as get a hand onto the holster, the man currently holding his own weapon aimed between Liam’s eyes speaks again. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” 

Liam gulps. Fuck, what the hell is he supposed to do now? How much time does he have to figure this out? These don’t exactly seem like the world’s most patient men, and it’s not like Liam can tell them the truth exactly. This whole thing may have been Zayn’s idea, but it’s insane enough that Liam’s virtually positive there are maybe like six people in his whole family who know what’s going on here. 

Clearly, these three are not three of those people. 

He’s takes a deep breath. He’s a cop, and if it comes down to it, he’s not going to just let some street thug shoot him for standing outside a bar. If he’s going down, which he’s beginning to genuinely fear might be an actual possibility, he’s not going to just let this random person walk all over him. And so he reaches for his weapon anyway. 

He watches the man’s face harden, and fuck Liam thinks, this is it. He’s definitely going to get shot. Possibly even killed. All because Zayn Malik is the single craziest motherfucker on the planet. 

When suddenly, an Irish voice rings through the night air, crystal clear and furious. 

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

The three men turn, lowering the weapon to the ground. Liam turns too, to see a very pissed looking Niall Horan standing outside the entrance to the club. His expression is calm, but there’s a quiet fury in his eyes. 

And fuck, now Liam finds himself in an entirely different situation, but one he’s just as ill equipped to handle. 

“He’s here to see the boss” Niall says, his voice even and calm, despite the anger tensing in his shoulders. “So I don’t know what exactly you think you’re doing with a gun pointed at his skull, but if any of you want to return to your wives tonight, I suggest you stop. Now.” He stands there, lighted by the dim lights of a bar, gun in a holster at his hip. He’s alone this time, and yet Liam’s amazed at the power he exudes. And as much as he knows he should be repulsed by it, he’s a cop for Christ’s sake, he finds himself almost…drawn to the image Niall exudes. Maybe Liam has always had a bit of an…affinity for power too. 

Liam watches the three men’s eyes widen, as the gun is even more hastily pointed anywhere but Liam as they realize their mistake. The first man, who seems to be the leader, holds his hands up in surrender, backing away from Liam quickly. Niall’s eyes narrow as he steps forward. 

One step. Two. Before he’s face to face with the men who’d just borderline threatened to kill Liam.

And yet for all the emotions Liam can read into Niall’s posture, into his glare, there’s one that noticeably absent. Fear. 

By all logical accounts, Niall should be at least nervous. Sure, he’s got a gun, but he hasn’t removed it from its holster. And he’s standing within a foot and a half of a man holding a deadly weapon. But despite all that, despite the fact that logically he’s the one in danger, the other three man are the ones who look terrified. Watching the scene unfold in front of him, Liam’s hit with the gravity of the situation.

Niall Horan doesn’t need a gun in his hand to be deadly. 

He watches the two men stare each other down, before Niall’s calling back into the club, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him. “Vinnie!” he barks, voice short and commanding “get out here”. 

It’s not a half second later before there’s a man standing there, just beside Niall. Liam recognizes him as one of the bodyguards he’d seen flanking Horan earlier. 

“I think these three need to learn some respect” he says, voice dark as he watches the three man cower in fear. 

“Sure thing, sir” the man, Vinnie Liam assumes, responds. 

The next thing he knows, he feels Niall’s hand on his elbow, leading him into the club. He’s just inside the door when he hears the thud of a punch landing on flesh, and a man cry out in pain. 

Holy fuck. 

The danger of the world Liam’s slowly moving into hits him like a freight train. He turns to look at Horan, who’s stopped him near the back of the bar. Niall moves to walk away, to disappear into the others mingling through the bar. To leave him for the boss to find. As though what just happened was the most casual, everyday thing in the world. Liam’s hit the reality of the possibility that for him, it is. And Liam almost lets him leave. Almost. 

“Niall!” he calls after him, and he watches as Horan pauses, and then turns on his heel to face Liam again.

The fury is gone from his eyes, but his face is back into the almost cold, detached mask Liam is starting to become increasingly familiar with. Gone is the man who’d jovially laughed at his joke in the car, and in his place stands the feared, hardened criminal Liam had been expecting to meet from the start. 

Niall must read the confusion on Liam’s face, as he struggles to find the words to use. To ask what they both know he wants to know. What he’s not sure if he’s allowed to know. 

Niall has mercy on him, and makes the first move. 

“You’re an idiot, Liam Payne” he says, and his tone softens as he looks at Liam. There’s almost a kindness to his eyes, like Liam’s the most naïve person he’s ever met. 

“I- I didn’t know, I never…” Liam manages to get out, and the implication doesn’t go unnoticed. He doesn’t know how to navigate in this world. Doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react, how much information he’s allowed to share…and the shock of what’s just happened is still running through his veins. 

Niall sighs, and places a hand on Liam’s shoulder, in a gesture of what feels almost like genuine compassion. 

“You’re here for the boss. Which means you’re off limits. Period. No questions asked. They should have known that” Liam nods his understanding. He doesn’t know what happened to them, what’s probably still happening to them. For the sake of preserving some modicum of plausible deniability, he doesn’t think he wants to know. 

And he’s pretty sure Horan wouldn’t tell him regardless. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Well in any case, thanks” he replies, looking at the man standing in front of him. The man who quite probably saved him from being shot in the street. 

Niall nods in response, before jutting his chin towards the back corner of the bar. Liam turns around to follow his gaze, and his eyes land on Zayn Malik himself, sitting calmly on a barstool sipping what looks like a double of whisky. 

“Wouldn’t keep the boss waiting” Niall chuckles softly, and Liam turns to follow his advice, beginning to move towards where New York’s biggest crime boss is sitting alone. Waiting for him. Suddenly, he begins to feel himself filled with a whole new form of trepidation. 

“Oh and Liam?” he hears from behind him. “Next time, don’t hesitate” Niall’s voice is back to being serious, but he offers Liam a small smile of understanding. 

“I won’t” He responds, and Niall can tell that he means it. 

Satisfied, Niall turns on his heel once again, before disappearing into the small crowd. Liam, for his part, pauses and takes a deep, settling breath before he moves towards the man he knows he’s here to see. 

The mobster who wants his help. 

_Everyone has a price Liam, what’s yours?_

Zayn’s parting words echo almost hauntingly in his head, and Liam know somewhere, deep down, that that’s undoubtedly why he’s here. Still rattled from everyone that’s just happened on the street, he wonders what Zayn’s going to offer him. Zayn Malik isn’t the type to take no for an answer – when he wants something, he gets it. Always. 

And apparently, at least at the moment, Liam is what he wants. 

“Liam Payne, just the man I wanted to see” Zayn starts, gesturing at the stool beside him. Zayn nods at the bartender, and before Liam can blink, there’s an identical whisky sitting in front of him on the bar. 

“Oh thank you, but –“ 

“But what Liam?” Zayn asks, his tone mischievous and daring, and Liam almost wants to groan at the warmth that seems to settle over him at Zayn’s tone. Suddenly, it’s there again. That temptation. The temptation he’s been trying so desperately to forget. The way Zayn had looked at him, how his hand had felt on his thigh, how his voice had washed through him like honey and velvet. The temptation of the deal he was being offered. The temptation of Zayn Malik, in the flesh. 

“I’m not supposed to drink while I’m on the job” he replies, his own voice soft as he looks at the man sitting across from him. 

Zayn quirks an eyebrow at him. “You’re not on the job Liam” he scoffs, pushing the whisky towards him. “Loosen up” he says, and then adds, quieter this time “I’m not trying to drug you if that’s what you’re worried about”. His smile is soft and reassuring. And fuck, Liam hadn’t even thought of that. 

Fuck, this is insane, what is he even doing here? What the hell is his life turning into? He takes a steadying breath, before he squares his shoulders. If this is the game Zayn wants to play, Liam can play it just as well as he can. 

So he picks up the glass in front of him and slowly, without breaking Zayn’s gaze, takes a drink. He watches Zayn’s tongue dart out to wet his lower lip as he follows the movement of Liam’s own tongue as it moves to catch a droplet pooling on the rim of his glass. 

Zayn’s gaze darkens, and Liam feels the beginnings of a smirk tug at his lips. If Malik wants to play dirty, he’s going to give as good as he gets. 

Zayn feels his eyes slide across this crazy cop’s lips, as other less…business related thoughts come crashing into his mind. Fuck, he needs to focus, he has a job to do. He sees the wicked glint in Liam’s eye, and it sends something deep and primal shuddering through him. Seems like sweet, innocent Liam maybe isn’t quite as innocent as he at first appeared. 

“I’m sorry about what happened outside” he starts, and his voice is darker now, more dangerous. Gone is the seductive lilt in his down, and it’s replaced with something else entirely. Something Liam’s not quite sure he can pinpoint. 

“How in the hell could you possibly know about that? It was what, 45 seconds ago?” he drawls, almost lazily, as he looks at Zayn almost challengingly. Calling his bluff. 

Zayn, for his part, doesn’t back down. Liam guesses he’s not really the type to retreat from a challenge, even one a small as the implication in Liam’s tone of voice. 

“I know everything Liam” he murmurs, and there it is again, that mischief in his tone. And Liam’s couldn’t’ for the life of him figure out why, but for some reason…he believes him. 

“Everything?” he challenges. “I doubt that” 

“Well,” Zayn concedes, mouth cracking into a half smile, “everything about things that pertain to my…business”

“Speaking of which…” he continues, voice drawing itself out, and curling in the space between them. Limited as that space may be. “Have you given any more thought to my offer?” 

And well, Liam’s not really sure how to answer that question. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t. In fact, he hasn’t been able to get Zayn out of his head since they last saw each other. But he doesn’t want to give the Zayn the satisfaction. Of knowing that he’s getting to Liam. Of knowing Liam is actually considering it, despite how crazy it sounds. But he’s stuck, he’s frustrated, and he isn’t getting any further without Zayn’s help. The cop in him knows that Jane Doe deserves justice, just like anyone else would. And it appears he’s running out of options….

Well, except the option currently sitting in front of him, assessing him quietly as he waits for his response. 

And still he doesn’t really know how to answer that question. So he opts not to.

“You don’t know everything about me” 

Zayn smirks, as Liam volleys back, challenge still clear in his voice. Zayn feels himself crow in victory, Liam may not want to admit it, his silence says all Zayn needs to know. That, much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Liam had thought about it. Might even be considering it. 

“Oh I wouldn’t be so sure of that love….” He starts, and the seduction is back, replacing the darkness in his tone entirely. “I know you live alone, in a tiny apartment in Hell’s kitchen. I know that you’re an only child, and that you joined the force right out of college. Degree in criminology too, little predictable if you ask me, but it seems to have served you well enough. You’ve been on the force for a few years, making an almost heroic rise to be promoted to detective at such a young age” 

Liam gulps. He’s not sure exactly what he was expecting Malik to counter with, but he knows one thing. It wasn’t that. 

He clears his throat, and Zayn can see the brief nervousness flit across his face. But as soon as it’s there, it’s gone, and Zayn’s impressed. He wants to knock Liam for a loop a bit, keep him on his toes. And for all his goody two shoes nature, Liam seems to be rolling with the punches pretty well. 

“You been stalking me or something?” he quips, taking another drink of his whisky.

“Hmmm, I prefer to think of it more as….research” Zayn responds, mouth half quirked up in a way that Liam wishes weren’t so enticing. He watches Liam try to suppress the shiver that Zayn is sure is running down his spine. 

“I know something else, too” he continues, and this is where he needs to focus. This is the important part. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” 

“I know about what happened to your parents” 

Liam feels like his heart has stopped beating entirely in his chest. His world freezes. What the…how could he…when did he…a split second later, and his heart has done a complete 180, and it’s now hammering away frantically at his chest. Panicking, if Liam’s being honest with himself. 

It seems Zayn’s found his price indeed. A price he didn’t even know he had. 

Zayn’s studying him carefully now, like he’s a complex problem he needs to solve. Quiet, contemplative. Assessing Liam’s reaction. 

Liam, for his part, once again finds himself not knowing what to say. 

“So here’s my new offer” Zayn continues, motioning for the bartender to bring him another drink. 

“You help me on this one, and I’ll help you on that one” 

“What?” Liam manages to get out. 

“It’s simple, Liam” Zayn continues, turning back to face towards him, and once again Liam finds himself caught in the intensity of his gaze. 

“You help me figure out who murdered S-“ Zayn cuts himself off, just short of saying her name, and Liam perks up at that. “You help me find the person who did this, and I’ll help you find the person who murdered your parents” 

“If you care so much about finding out who did this, why don’t you do it yourself?” Liam asks, still incredulous at the bombshell Zayn’s just dropped. “What on earth could you possibly need me for?” 

Zayn sighs, almost long suffering. “It’s not that simple Liam” he replies. And once again, Liam’s left wondering what exactly he means by that. 

“So that’s my offer. I want to be kept in the loop of any developments in your Jane Doe case, and you’ll have full access to whatever you need to solve it. Anyone you need to talk to, anything you need access to, you’ll have it. And for my part, I’ll find who killed your parents.” 

“How do I know you didn’t do it yourself? How do I know you even have anything I need?” Liam argues stubbornly. As tempting as this offer is, he needs to be smart about this. Because ultimately, Malik is a criminal. And Liam needs to be sure. 

“Well for one, she was wearing my mark. Which firstly, why the hell would I kill someone wearing my own damn mark. And secondly, because I know what you’re about to say, why would I plant the only piece of evidence tying her to my organization on her body, if I was the one who had done it?” 

As much as Liam doesn’t want to admit it, Malik has a point. 

“How do you even know about that?” He asks, again incredulous. “That detail wasn’t ever released…” his eyes narrow.

“Because, Liam” Zayn says, voice deadly serious as he looks Liam straight in the eye. 

“I know who she is” 

Liam swallows hard. He had been pretty sure of that anyway, but it’s one thing to believe it, and another to actually hear Zayn admit it in front of him. 

Zayn sighs at Liam’s silence. “I’m offering you the chance to solve your case Liam. Two cases, really. All I’m asking in return is that you keep me abreast of any details and developments.” 

Liam swallows hard. 

“Why?” He asks, and now his voice is deadly serious too. He doesn’t know why he’s even considering this, by all counts Zayn Malik is a dangerous criminal who undoubtedly has some sort of agenda he’s trying to drag Liam down into. He shouldn’t trust him, shouldn’t even be thinking about this, and yet…

He’s gone years without a break in his parent’s case. And for the last 6 years, it’s been all he thinks about. They deserve justice, just like his Jane Doe does. He knows what that feels like, knows what it’s like not to know what happened, to have someone you love just….gone. And he feels like he owes it to the family of that Jane Doe to give them something at the very least. Some kind of closure. The closure he’d never gotten. 

And Malik, for all his faults, seems to be offering just that. 

But before he agrees to this, he needs to know why. Why Malik cares at all about a random girl found in the street with a bullet in her brain. 

Zayn’s voice is dark as he responds, and there’s a sadness to it Liam’s never heard before. 

“I owe it to a friend” is his only response. 

It’s that sadness that convinces him. He can see why Zayn’s in charge, he seductive, and manipulative; the most Machiavellian person Liam’s ever met. And fuck if Liam’s not finding that hard to resist right now.

“And if I do this for you, you’ll help me find out who killed my parents?” 

Zayn’s gaze is serious, as he meets his eyes. “You have my word” 

Liam lets out a deep breath, one he didn’t realize he had been holding. 

“Alright,” he finally says. “But let me be clear, I will accept your…assistance for this one case, and this one case only. Once that case has been closed, I’m not staying on your payroll.” 

Zayn nods. “That’s all I’m asking, Liam” 

Zayn extends his hand. 

Liam takes a deep breath, as he makes a deal with the devil.

As he shakes hands with a mobster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, what's Liam gotten himself into this time? 
> 
> Like it? Hate it? Have an idea? Please let me know!! 
> 
> I absolutely LOVE reading y'alls comments, they make my little writer's heart sing with joy!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! Hope y'all enjoy!!

Time almost seems to freeze, a moment frozen in time. It’s like a scene from a movie, the screen pans in, and then stops, ensuring the image is crystal clear to the audience viewing the tape. A cop and a mobster shake hands in the back of a shady looking bar, their faces lit by the dim lights above them, all that’s missing is the cigar smoke swirling through the air. 

And with that handshake, they seal their fate.  
Liam looks down at his hand. Sees where it’s clasped in Zayn’s. Zayn Malik, the most dangerous man in New York City, the city he’s sworn to protect from men like…well from men like Zayn himself. What has his life come to? 

It’s a Faustian bargain, and Liam can’t help but feeling like there’s no way he gets out of this unscathed. 

Slowly, he leans back in his chair and looks at his new…business partner? Friend is certainly too strong a word, he supposes acquaintance will do for now. Zayn, for his part, looks like the cat that got the canary, there’s a glow of victory in his eyes as he looks at Liam with an unreadable expression. 

And fuck, Liam should _not_ be thinking about how good Zayn looks right now. How that deep, possessive, dark light to his eyes suits him. Suits his frame, suits the club they’re sitting in, suits the tattoos Liam can see peeking out from behind his clothes. Practically taunting Liam, daring him to get closer. 

It’s Zayn that speaks next, which is probably good, because Liam isn’t really sure where to go from here. I mean he’s fairly certain they’re not going to start on his case right now, it’s practically the middle of the night. But then again, he’s also pretty sure Zayn’s the first boss in history to voluntarily give a cop access to his organization. To himself. He’s sure the old Godfathers are spinning in their graves right now. 

“About what happened outside” Zayn starts, his voice steely and hard. 

And fuck, Liam’s suddenly nervous again. Sure, Zayn had apologized earlier, and based on Niall’s behavior he’s almost positive they weren’t supposed to attack him like that, but he’s on Malik’s turf. And he has no idea how he’s supposed to handle himself. If he’d done something wrong. Something to offend. 

“I know you’re probably somewhat...we’ll say out of your depth” Zayn starts, and there’s a lighter tone in his voice. Liam feels himself relax, and he chuckles softly.

“Understatement of the year” 

“I just wanted you to know not to worry. They’ll be dealt with.” Zayn gives him a short nod, and Liam gets the impression this is supposed to reassure him. This is a game of loyalty, of respect, and Liam’s not sure of the rules. He knows that for as much as people paint organizations like Zayn’s as chaotic, violet gangs, that’s in fact deeply untrue.

The families in New York operate by a strict code of conduct. And in this world, disrespect is taken very, very seriously. 

Liam’s guessing that those men pulling a gun on him in the alley was seen as disrespectful. And for as much as Liam doesn’t understand this world, there’s one thing he does understand. This is Zayn assuring him that that slight wouldn’t be tolerated. This was Zayn speaking to him almost like…an equal. Someone who would be offended, who would _demand_ something be done to punish those who had stepped out of line. 

But the thing is, Liam had been more terrified than he had been offended. Which means he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do in this situation.

He settles on nodding.

“But, I don’t want to start this off on the wrong foot.” Zayn continues, voice businesslike as he regards Liam still sitting across from him. 

“So I’d like to offer you a gesture of good faith” he continues, taking another sip of his whisky.

“Oh?” Liam replies, his voice sounding more confident than he actually is. “And what’s that?” 

“I normally take care of this kind of thing exclusively in house, so to speak. But I’m happy to have them brought to you if you’d prefer to handle it yourself…?” he asks, voice trailing off as he takes in the confused expression Liam is sure is plastered on his face. He takes a deep breath.

He’s pretty sure he understands what Zayn’s implying, but if he is, that’s completely batshit insane. 

He steadies himself before he responds, “why would I want them brought to me?”. And even his voice sounds confused. 

“So you could punish them yourself of course” Zayn responds, and now it’s his brow that’s furrowing in confusion. Like he doesn’t understand what Liam’s not getting here. Like Liam’s the daft one. 

“You’re the one they disrespected. I’m sure you want to make sure they’re dealt with, and at this point I’m assuming you don’t know me well enough to trust that I’ll do an appropriate job. That the punishment will fit the crime, so to speak. So, as a gesture of good faith, I’m offering to have them brought to you instead. So you can ensure that things are set right.” 

Zayn’s speaks slowly, his tone confused, like he doesn’t understand why he needs to spell this out…

Liam gulps. Jesus Christ, Zayn’s offering to have those men brought to Liam so that he can…well Liam’s not sure exactly what it is Zayn’s expecting him to do. Beat them up? Break an arm? 

Whatever it is, Liam’s not keen to do it. 

But Zayn’s confusion makes him pause for a moment. He pauses, and he really thinks about what’s going on here. And suddenly, he realizes something. That for as much as Liam doesn’t understand Zayn’s world, doesn’t understand its rules – Zayn doesn’t really understand Liam’s world either. Zayn, even as a child, had basically been a mobster his whole life. He’d been surrounded by these men since before he could talk, and this lifestyle was deeply ingrained in him. 

Liam’s not the only one it seems who’s worried he’s going to offend. If Liam were…well if Liam were a criminal, this is probably what he’d expect. Zayn’s showing his own gesture of respect by offering this to Liam. 

Liam pauses, as he thinks of how to respond. He doesn’t think he should outright refuse, for as much as he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, he’s pretty certain that rejecting the boss’s generosity isn’t the right move for him here. 

“T-thanks” Liam stammers out, “but I trust that you’ll take care of it. That you’ll…make sure things are dealt with appropriately.” 

Zayn nods, like this was a perfectly acceptable answer, and Liam breathes a sigh of relief. 

“I will.” Zayn’s answer is short, businesslike, like this is an everyday occurrence. Liam supposes that for him, it probably is. 

Zayn’s gaze turns to him once again, and Liam feels Zayn’s gaze sweep him up and down. But this time, the intention feels…different. Almost more intimate, more mischievous, more…wicked. 

Liam feels his own gaze darken in response. And God, he doesn’t understand how Zayn does that. How he can flip, almost like a switch, from discussing something so violent to being almost…flirtatious? Unless Liam’s reading this situation wrong, the look Zayn’s giving him is anything but innocent. It’s throwing Liam for a loop, he feels like he can’t keep up, like Zayn’s tugging him up and down on a roller coaster, and Liam’s exhausted trying to keep up with the swings in intensity. 

Zayn smirks. Liam’s taken this well, so far. He’s not surprised Liam had turned down his offer to have those men brought to him, but it was the right thing to do. He couldn’t have Liam thinking he was disrespectful. That he didn’t take Liam seriously. He was going to be asking too much of him in the coming weeks. 

Liam didn’t know it, couldn’t know it at this point, but he was walking into a powder keg. 

And he had no idea. 

But beyond that, there’s something about Liam that intrigues him. He wants to push, to get under Liam’s skin and figure out what makes him tick. 

He _wants_ Liam, wants him invested in this. If he’s being honest with himself, wants Liam invested in him specifically. 

But as much as he wants to continue to push, to tease, to see how much he can make Liam blush that enticing pink shade, he doesn’t want to push him too far, too fast. He needs to be careful. 

“It’s late,” Zayn starts, moving to stand from his barstool, “and I’m sure you’re needing to get back…” he trails off, quirking his lips as Liam startles himself from the almost hypnotic pull of Zayn’s eyes on him. 

Liam nods, a soft smile on his face. He looks almost…grateful. The truth is, now that the adrenaline is beginning to fade, he’s realizing something. He’s absolutely, fucking exhausted. 

“Thanks” he says, his voice quiet as he moves to follow Zayn, who’s slowly making his way towards the back entrance, and the car Liam’s sure is waiting for him on the other side. 

Like Moses, Liam watches as the people part, either subconsciously or knowingly in front of Zayn’s path. It’s incredible, Liam thinks, how much power Zayn truly holds here. Impressive too, and if Liam’s honest the image isn’t helping the shiver that seems to be crawling down his spine whenever he’s around the mobster. 

They push through the back door, and almost immediately, Zayn’s being ushered into the black car Liam knew would be sitting there. His guards move to hover around him, around both of them really, as they ensure Zayn’s temporary moment of exposure doesn’t make him vulnerable. Liam watches as their eyes scan the alley, the rooftops, and the darkness that surrounds them. What they’re looking for, Liam’s not sure. 

But he’s almost positive he doesn’t want to find out. Anything that threatens Zayn Malik must be a terrifying force indeed. 

“Which way to the closest Subway station?” Liam asks one of the men standing around him. Unlike Zayn, he doesn’t have a car, much less a driver. He’s never needed one in the city. Sure he could get a cab, but the subway’s cheaper, and Liam wouldn’t mind a bit of a longer ride to help him process what’s just happened. 

“One block down, two blocks over” the man responds, pointing the direction out to Liam. 

Liam starts walking, when he hears a shout from behind him. 

“Payne!” he hears, voice ringing through the darkness of the alleyway. 

He turns, to find Zayn out of his car. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” 

“Um, home?” Liam replies, “heard the closest subway station’s that way” he responds, pointing in the direction he’d been giving. 

Zayn scoffs, “Subway! Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not riding the _subway_ ” he says, almost in disdain. 

“I really don’t mind – “ Liam’s protest is cut off when Zayn, completely ignoring him, calls for someone Liam doesn’t recognize. 

“Have someone bring a car around for Liam here” Zayn orders, voice firm. 

“Sure thing boss” the man responds, before he turns, and starts barking into his earpiece. He looks around, and sees all the men around Zayn wearing similar devices, and Liam almost wants to laugh. If he didn’t know any better, it’d look like they were in the secret service. Although, Liam supposes, the comparison probably isn’t an unfair one. Zayn’s the boss, so in this world, he’s probably even more important than the president is. 

It’s barely a minute later before another, identical car is pulling around in front of Liam. Before Liam can protest, he’s being ushered inside, and before he knows it, he’s alone. Sitting in one of Zayn Malik’s town cars. Jesus, what is his life coming to…

“Where to, sir?” he hears a voice from the front seat ask. He gives the man his address, and sits back, watching the lights move past his windows as they drive through the city. 

By the time they reach Liam’s apartment, he’s exhausted, and it’s all he can do to change out of his clothes before he’s nearly collapsing into his bed. 

He sleeps like the dead. 

He wakes up the next morning, thirty minutes before his alarm is set to go off, to the sound of a sharp rap on the door. 

What the hell? Liam raises his head groggily, picking up his phone to check the time. It can’t be too early, the soft grey light of morning is already streaming in through his windows.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he goes to answer the door, pulling on a pair of track pants on his way. Liam’s normally a morning person, but after the night he’d just had…he had been looking forward to every bit of sleep he could get before he had to get up for work.

He opens the door to find two strange men standing in front of him. They’re dressed in dark pants, and black polo shirts. Their clothes look like they’re on their way to an office job, but the guns at their hips, the strength in their arms, and the earpieces Liam sees in their ears say otherwise. 

Suddenly, Liam finds himself wishing he had thought to bring his own gun. If he’s apparently going to be working with Zayn now, he thinks he’s going to have to start remembering to bring that with him basically everywhere he goes. 

“Can I help you?” he asks, voice still slightly rough from sleep, confusion clear in his eyes.

“You Liam Payne?” the first man asks. 

“I am” Liam says carefully, looking at these men cautiously. 

“Nice to meet you” the man says, as though this whole thing is perfectly normal. “I’m Tim,” he introduces himself, offering a handshake. Liam shakes his hand, before turning to the man beside him. “I’m Johnnie” the second man says, his voice just as serious as Tim’s had been. 

“The boss sent us” 

Liam wants to bury his face in his hands. He sighs, of course he had. 

Liam steps aside, letting the two men enter his apartment. They end up in his living room, and Liam’s glad he keeps his place relatively tidy if Zayn’s going to keep surprising him like this. 

“Not to be rude or anything…” he starts slowly, looking between the two men. “But why exactly did Zayn send you?” 

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” Tim asks, clearly confused. Liam shakes his head. Johnnie, for his part, bursts out laughing. 

“Here,” he says, tossing something at Liam. Liam moves just in time to catch it, only to find himself holding a small black flip phone. Liam’s been a cop long enough to know it’s definitely a burner. 

“Call him and ask him yourself” Johnnie answers, still grinning in amusement. “Speed dial one” 

“While you’re doing that,” Tim jumps in, all business once again, “do you mind if we run a threat assessment in here sir?” 

Liam’s pretty sure he must look like an actual fish out of water, his mouth hanging open in shock as he’s staring at the two men standing in front of him. 

“Um, sure” he stammers out. Tim nods, and he and Johnnie turn to begin walking through Liam’s apartment. They start with the door, opening and closing it, inspecting the deadbolt, and Liam can see them whispering between themselves as Johnnie jots notes down on a small black pad he’s procured from his pocket. 

Liam opens the phone, and hits speed dial one. 

The phone on the other end rings once, twice, before - 

“Liam!” he hears Zayn’s voice on the other end, his voice far too cheerful for this early in the morning, “I thought I might be hearing from you this morning” he hears Zayn chuckle. 

“Zayn,” Liam starts, his voice saccharine and sweet, “want to explain to me why there are two guys in my living room, performing a threat assessment on my apartment, apparently because you sent them?” 

“Well that’s easy Liam, that’s because I sent them to do that” 

“Want to tell me why?” Liam presses. “I mean this is ridiculous” 

“Because it’s their job” Zayn answers simply, and there’s a teasing note to his voice. Like he knows what Liam’s hinting at, and isn’t going to answer unless Liam just comes out and says it. 

“What do you mean it’s their job?” Liam asks, voice incredulous. 

“It’s their job, because I put them in charge of making sure you’re safe” Zayn answers seriously. 

“Zayn,” Liam sighs, “please tell me you didn’t assign me _bodyguards_. That’s absurd”

“That’s exactly what I did Liam. I can’t have you walking around unprotected.” 

“Zayn I work in a police station. There is literally no safer place for me to be all day, I’m surrounded by cops. Plus, it’s not like they’re going to be able to just show up to work with me”

“I’m not an idiot Liam” Zayn scoffs, “they’re not going to literally surround you everywhere you go. You may not always see them, but they’ll always be close. And if something happens, they _will_ step in. I promised you that nothing would happen to you as long as you worked for me, and I was serious about that” 

“Zayn, I’m not having bodyguards follow me around all day. Hiring bodyguards to protect a cop is literally the definition of unnecessary” 

Zayn laughs, “Well you can either have them as your guards, or I’ll just have them tail you instead. ” 

Liam sighs “Zayn” 

“Liam” 

Liam groans. He can tell Zayn’s not going to back down, and he also knows that for however much he protests, there’s no way Tim and Johnnie are ever going to listen to him over the boss. 

“Fine” he sighs, “but they can’t interfere with my job” he says seriously. 

He can practically hear Zayn’s smile through the phone. “You won’t even know they’re there” 

Liam scoffs, “I doubt that” he says, but his voice is good natured as he hangs up the phone. 

Well, this certainly wasn’t how he had been expecting his morning to go. But he figures what the hell, he’ll let Zayn keep them with him for a couple weeks, and let Zayn realizes how completely unnecessary they are. How bad can it be, right? 

“Sir?” he hears from the other room. He turns, moving back into the living room, to find Tim standing in front of him as Johnnie speaks into his earpiece. 

“Overall security isn’t bad, but we’d like to make a couple changes if that’s alright with you” 

Liam sits down. “Okay,” he sighs in defeat, “what did you have in mind?” 

Tim frowns as he runs through his list, “Well for starters, we’d like to add another deadbolt to you door, and the hinges will need to be reinforced so it’s not so easy to kick down. Then there’s the windows – they’re good, but not bulletproof, which is definitely something we need to look into, I mean you’re not on the ground level which is good, but the buildings surrounding you would still offer plenty of cover…” 

As Liam listens to Tim talk through the security changes his apartment needs, he looks down at the black phone still in his hand. 

A real, tangible link to the most powerful mob in the city. 

He sighs, what the hell has he gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Liam gets his first taste of what it's going to be like working with Zayn (sort of haha)...
> 
> What did you think?! Love it? Hate it? Let me know!! 
> 
> Also, I know I've been writing a lot of Liam's POV recently, would y'all want to see more of Zayn's POV? Or keep things as they are? What do you think of the story so far? 
> 
> Comments and kudos make my writer's heart sing with joy!! Hearing from y'all is seriously the best part of it, and I hope you liked it! :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a new chapter! This one's a little bit longer, but I felt like it was important. 
> 
> And, since a lot of y'all said you were interested, please enjoy....Zayn's POV!! 
> 
> As always, please let me know what you thought!

The hell he’s gotten himself into is an unassuming warehouse near the waterfront, which is about to house four of the most powerful men in New York City. 

Zayn walks in, gun hanging in his shoulder holster as he moves with sure, confident strides towards the back, where there’s a staircase leading to the second floor. The warehouse has always had a certain energy to it, a certain…chaos that it seems to feed, as men scramble around from station to station barking orders.

The right hand wall is lined with weapons, standing straight in their racks. Zayn’s armaments division doesn’t mess around, and their walls are lined with practically every kind of weapon imaginable. Machine guns, hand guns, knives – you name it, they had it. This wasn’t even to close to everything either, after all this wasn’t their primary weapons depot. But the warehouse was their nerve center, one of them anyway, which meant they always needed to be prepared. 

There was a gun on that wall for every person assigned to the warehouse, and they damn well all knew how to use them.

If there was one thing Zayn’s father had taught him, it was that you could never afford to be caught with your guard let down. 

_You’re not as safe as you think you are_ ….he can still hear his fathers’ words echo in his ears, and with everything going on, he doesn’t think there’s ever been a time when they’re more irrefutably true. 

To an outsider looking in, Zayn’s family could rival the armies of several small countries in terms of weapons and intelligence. 

There was a reason Zayn was on top, after all. 

Zayn glances to his left, where Niall and the cyber division are poring over massive computer screens full of everything from hacked financial data, to security information. Niall’s leaning over an associate’s desk, his eyes carefully scanning the spreadsheet before him, pointing out one number or another every few seconds. The old bosses had gotten caught because they got arrogant, got sloppy, and failed to adapt to the changing times. 

Zayn had no intention of making those same mistakes.

He’s got the best, most well trained hackers in the city, monitoring everything from security feeds in their territory, to police scanners, to financial institutions. And that wasn’t even counting the dozens more he had running cons at any given moment. 

He catches Niall’s eye as he walks past, and a quick nod is all it takes to have Niall patting the associate on the back and giving his final orders, before moving to walk in step with Zayn. It’s barely a minute later before they’re reaching Niall’s office, and Zayn takes a moment before walking inside to turn, and stand on the balcony observing the warehouse from above. 

Zayn loves the warehouse, it’s one of his favorite places, always has been. He remembers being a little kid, running through the stacks of boxes, Louis and he playing hide and seek amongst security camera feeds showing every street in their territory. It was far from a normal life, he knew that, but it was the only life he’d ever known, and damn it if he couldn’t wish for a better one. 

From up here on Niall’s balcony, the warehouse looks like an ant hive, men bustling from place to place, screens flashing brightly as shipments move through elaborately designed conveyer systems, sorting equipment and material and delivering it to whoever was charged with it. Here, more than anywhere else, he feels in control, feels like he can see the whole of his operation. Feels like he’s standing at the very heart of his vast criminal enterprise. 

He’s not, he knows he’s not. The fact is, they’re far too smart to keep all their eggs in one basket so to speak. This is only one of about five major warehouses Zayn uses, each one carefully isolated such that even if one were discovered or hit, the other four wouldn’t fall. Everything in this warehouse was mobile, and could be moved quickly. If the cops were on their way to bust them, every man and machine in this room would be gone in under thirty minutes. 

27 minutes to be specific. Zayn knew, he had Niall run drills. 

It’s from this vantage point that he watches Louis’ hit the warehouse, pushing through the gates at the other end of the floor. Zayn takes a minute to smile softly, in many ways Louis is just like the warehouse itself, that chaotic, borderline combustible energy that makes him simultaneously incredibly effective, and incredibly dangerous. 

Louis and Harry almost certainly came from the same place, after all, it’s still pretty early, so it’s more likely than not they had come from their shared apartment, but they’ll take separate cars to get here. Each car follows a different route, changed frequently and randomly to discourage being tracked or attacked by an enemy. 

Nonetheless, Zayn knows the two of them, and unless he’s mistaken, Harry should be here in 3…2…

Harry walks through a pair of doors at the side of the warehouse, looking calm and collected as ever. As much as Zayn hates to admit it, Harry’s probably got the best poker face of all of them. 

Zayn’s watched Harry’s face remain that impassive, calculating calm, even as bullets literally fly past his head. Zayn has no idea how he does it, but he’s not complaining. 

He turns, and heads through the door into Niall’s office behind him. It’s not a moment later, and they’re all four in there, Harry closing the door after him as the last person inside. 

“So?” Harry’s voice drawls, as Zayn feels three sets of eyes on him, awaiting his response. Harry’s voice is still that slow, almost lazy calm it always is, but his eyes are shining with mischief. 

“He’s in”

The tension seems to break in the room, as Louis groans at Harry’s positively victorious smile. “Pay up, Lou” he sing-songs, sticking his hand out as Zayn watches Louis press something into his awaiting palm. 

He raises a questioning eyebrow, “Do I want to know?” he asks, chuckling at his friend’s antics. Harry winks at him, a positively wicked grin on his lips, “Probably not, no” he laughs. 

“I also took your advice Lou” Zayn continues, tone moving from amused to serious, “I assigned him to Tim and Johnnie, they should be able to keep an eye on him for us” Louis nods in satisfaction.

“Are you worried about someone coming after him?” Niall questions, business like as ever. It’s one of the things Zayn appreciates most about Niall. In reality, Niall’s a pretty happy guy, always there with a pint or a laugh when you needed it. But when it was time to work, he was all business, and at times like this, Zayn appreciated that particular trait more than ever. 

“Honestly, yes.” 

“Did you tell him that?” 

“Not yet, no” 

Louis sighs. “I don’t know what you’re sugar coating it for, Zayn. If he’s going to do this, he’s more than likely going to have to get his hands dirty with the rest of us. And if whoever did this is monitoring our movements, there’s a chance Payne’s walking around out there with a giant target practically painted on his back” 

“I know that” Zayn scoffs, voice slightly affronted, “which is why Tim and Johnnie are going to look out for him, and with any luck, it won’t come to that.” 

Louis mouth is pressed in a hard line, he doesn’t look impressed. Or like he’s going to drop it. 

“Just as importantly” Harry speaks up from where he’s leaning against the wall beside the door, “this way we can keep an eye on all of Payne’s movements, which’ll give us a step up in case he tries to double cross us” 

Zayn nods. Harry’s right, as much as Liam hadn’t done anything that seemed to indicate he was going to flip on them so far, Zayn couldn’t afford to allow himself to forget that when it came down to it, Liam was first and foremost a cop. 

That for as much as Zayn _wanted_ Liam invested in him….he wasn’t. 

This was a pact of convenience, and nothing else. Liam would help Zayn exorcise his demons, and Zayn would ensure Liam could exorcise his.

Louis steps forward, chin jutting up stubbornly, with fire in his eyes. The look on his face was challenging, and more importantly…

It was undaunted. Unafraid. Zayn sighs, he had been right, Louis wasn’t going to drop this. 

“You need to level with him” 

Zayn looks up, and feels the weight of the other’s gazes on him as they wait for him to make the first move. It’s times like these that Zayn’s reminded, intensely so, of how much of this rests in his hands. 

If the family is an army, he’s more than just a general. He’s the commander in chief. 

But the truth is, he doesn’t want to tell Liam, doesn’t want to see the look of fear pass over his face as Zayn tells him how much danger he might genuinely be in now. As Zayn explains to him that it hadn’t been paranoia that had him sending Tim and Johnnie to Liam’s door, it had been an attempt to mitigate a genuine risk. 

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, he’s afraid. Afraid Liam’s going to turn on them, afraid he’s going to bring this whole thing crumbling down, or that he’s going to run screaming for the hills. Run from this whole thing, run from him. And while he’s being honest with himself…he’s not sure which of those he’s most afraid of. 

But no matter whatever personal feelings are springing up in his chest as he envisions Liam’s wide, trusting eyes, he can’t ever forget that he has a job to do. Potentially the entire future of this family, of all of them, rests in the decisions he’s going to make in the coming weeks.

Which means that Louis is right. Zayn needs to level with Liam. 

He sighs, defeated, and his body seems to cave minutely into himself as he nods in Louis direction. 

“You’re right. I need to see him anyway, fill him in on the particulars he’ll need to get started.” 

Louis claps a hand on his shoulder, and nods his expression satisfied, but no less serious. 

With that, the meeting is mostly over, and the others exit the office one by one, each called away by an associate, or a ring of their phones alerting them to a situation that requires their attention. Pretty soon, Zayn’s the only one left in the office. 

He picks up his cell phone, and calls Liam. It’s around noon, and Zayn hopes Liam is on his lunch break, and can answer the phone. 

The phone rings once, twice, before- 

“Hello?” He hears Liam’s cautious voice answer, and it’s just then that Zayn realizes his number isn’t saved in Liam’s phone under his own name, it’s just another number on his speed dial. Which means Liam has absolutely no idea who’s calling him right now. 

“Liam!” He says, hoping he’ll recognize his voice, and won’t have to identify himself by name. He can’t forget that Liam does work in a police station, and you never know who might lingering around, curious at the inconspicuous black burner Liam’s just pulled out of his pocket. 

“Hey” Liam responds, and Zayn can hear the recognition in his voice, can hear it in the way his voice loses it’s cautious edge, and slips into something more…relieved? 

“You know I can’t really talk right now…” Liam continues, and there their cautious edge is back into his voice, and Zayn’s not stupid, he can read between the lines. What Liam can’t say, what he wants to say is, _what the hell is wrong with you, I’m at work! You think I can just have a casual conversation with a mob boss in the middle of this precinct?_

Zayn chuckles, “Don’t need to talk, love. You’re meeting me for lunch today! You are on your lunch break right?” 

Liam sighs, “I am” 

“Perfect! It’s settled then” 

“But Zay-“

“I need to talk to you Liam, and now’s as good a time as any” and just like that Zayn’s voice is back to being serious again, it’s lost its playful edge, and he’s all business. “Tim and Johnnie will pick you up in a minute” 

“Jesus Christ” he hears Liam mutter under his breath, “would it kill you to plan anything in advance?” he asks, but there’s a certain fondness in his voice that he isn’t really angry, and Zayn feels himself smiling despite the fact that Liam can’t see him. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” he purrs, and takes just a second to enjoy Liam’s almost inaudible intake of breath, before he’s hanging up the phone and calling for his own guards. 

“Someone get a hold of Tim and tell him to have Payne meet me at the downtown office” he orders, and it’s not two seconds later before his guard is hurrying from the room, barking orders into his earpiece. Zayn smiles, his people are good – efficient, incredible at what they do, and they take orders well. 

Twenty minutes later, and he’s sitting in one of his offices downtown waiting on Liam to walk through the door. This office isn’t quite as nice as the one at the warehouse, but even he’s not stupid enough to take Liam to the warehouse when he doesn’t really know him yet. He’d stopped and picked up lunch from Gino’s on his way in…all that’s missing is his mysterious new partner, and they can get started. 

He hears a timid knock on the door not five seconds later, and he has to smile. This whole thing clearly made Liam nervous, which was fine, to be expected even, but Liam needed to learn that in Zayn’s world, there was no place for shyness. 

“Come in” he calls, and watches as Liam opens the door, and moves inside. Liam nods in greeting, almost bashfully, and Zayn finds himself smirking in response.

“Next time don’t be so timid when you knock” 

Liam looks up at him, eyebrow quirking in confusion. 

“Strong people aren’t afraid to enter a room. Never let anyone else think that you’re weak.” He says decisively, answering Liam’s unspoken question. 

“Even if it’s you?” 

Zayn smirks, his expression positively predatory as he looks Liam up and down.

“Especially if it’s me” 

Zayn knows he looks good, knows the effect his piercing gaze can have on people…he takes Liam’s audible swallow to mean he’s having that effect on Liam. 

Good. 

They sit, and chat some, and divvy up the food, and yet…Zayn can’t seem to keep the heat out of his gaze and the mischief out of his voice. Based on the flush Liam’s sporting, he doesn’t think he really minds. 

“So what do you want?” Liam suddenly asks, once their plates are empty. His voice doesn’t sound afraid anymore, he sounds strong and sure of himself as he looks at Zayn expectantly. Defiantly. 

It’s been years since anyone other than the other boys had given him a look like that, and damn it if Zayn doesn’t find that he loves it. He loves the challenge in Liam’s eyes, and he’s determined to meet it head on. 

“Ooh, getting bold on me now love?” he fires back, his own mouth curling into a smirk. 

Liam holds his gaze, unrepentant “I was told you brought me here for a reason. Unless…” he pauses just long enough, “you just wanted to see me?” he teases, a wicked glint in his eye. 

And now it’s Zayn who finds himself wanting to gulp. Even if that was true, which it wasn’t he assures himself, he’s not going to admit that. Not when he’s having too much fun with their back and forth. To admit that would be to admit defeat, and Zayn Malik never admits defeat. 

If either one of them was going to break here, it wasn’t going to be Zayn. 

So Zayn doesn’t gulp, or curse under his breath, or allow his cheeks to flush. Because he’s been in this business a long time, and his poker face is better than Liam’s is. 

“Well I was going to give you the ID of your Jane Doe down by the docks, but if you don’t want to hear it…” he trails off teasingly, quirking an expectant eyebrow.

Liam chuckles softly, “No, I do.” 

“Thought so” Zayn says, and he can’t quite keep the note of victory out of his voice. 

“Her name’s Sarah Thompson” he says suddenly, voice much more serious now. And there, he said it. It’s out there, in the open between them. They pause, before Liam’s pulling out a small notebook like this is an honest to God 1980’s cop movie. 

“How did you know the victim?” he asks, voice firm and professional. Like he does this all the time. Now that Zayn thinks about it…he probably does. 

“Oh she was nobody’s victim, I can promise you that” 

“Her body in my autopsy room says otherwise” 

Zayn sighs. This is going to be the hard part. “She was my…childhood friend. We grew up together, in fact she lived in the house next door to mine” he admits softly. Liam notices that his voice has changed, gone is the cocky, confident gangster and in his place Zayn sounds genuinely…sad. 

“So when you told me wanted to do this because you owed it to a friend…” 

Zayn nods. “She was my best friend. And whatever bastard did this to her is damn well not going to get away with it.” 

There’s a fierceness, an underlying note of danger in Zayn’s voice that makes Liam’s blood run cold, just for a second. It occurs to him that when he does find this person, he’ll have to make sure he gets to him before Zayn does. After all, Zayn Malik is a dangerous guy, and he’s positive whatever Zayn has planned for their killer goes far beyond a lifetime prison sentence and probably involves a lot of blood in the basement of an abandoned building somewhere. Or worse. 

Liam clears his throat. “Alright, did she have any enemies?” 

“No, and it wouldn’t matter if she did.” 

“Why not?” 

Zayn chuckles darkly, “because this was a message sent for me Payne. They could have left her anywhere in this city, or nowhere at all. They could have sunk her body in the river, or taken her out of state, but they didn’t. They left her right in the open, down by the docks – why do you think that is Liam?” 

“Because they wanted you to find her, they wanted you to know” Liam says slowly, and a picture is slowly beginning to form in his mind. A picture that’s shaping up to be far more complicated, far more nefarious than he had initially thought. 

Zayn nods, and the silence overtakes them for a moment. 

Finally, Zayn breaks the silence. “Which means something else Liam…” and this is it. He has to level with Liam, has to tell him the truth, has to tell him that he’s in actual danger. And he has to hope Liam doesn’t run screaming for the hills when he does. 

“Whoever did this has got some balls, and they’re smart too. Which means that for as much as we’re hunting them, they’re hunting me too. Since you’re with me now…that means they’re hunting you by extension. And if they catch you…” 

He trails off, lets the implication hang in the air. Liam is sitting there, stoic faced, as though he’s expecting Zayn to continue. 

“I just…I wanted to make sure you knew that. Because it wouldn’t be right for me to drag you into this mess with me without you knowing at least some of what you’re getting yourself into.” 

Liam pauses for a minute, and Zayn waits. Waits for the fear he dreads to see in Liam’s eyes, fear of what he’s been brought into fear of…fear of Zayn himself. 

But instead, all he sees is steely resolution. “I’m a cop Zayn, I deal with people who probably want to kill me every day” Liam’s face breaks into a half smile. 

“How bad can your guys be, right?” 

Zayn lets a breath out he didn’t even realize he’d been holding as relief washes through him. Relief at what he’s not sure, that Liam’s still going to help him, or that Liam isn’t going to run away. 

“I told you nothing would happen to you if you were working for me, and I was serious about that Liam. I gave you my word, and I intend to uphold that. But I’m no God, so I just felt like I should…ya know. Let you know” 

Liam meets his gaze calmly, but there’s no fear in his eyes. For a second, Zayn contemplates the concept that Liam Payne may in fact me completely and totally insane. And yeah, that lines up with what he’s seen so far. Because by all accounts, he really should be afraid. 

Maybe Zayn has finally met his match after all. 

“So, I guess we start with you then” Liam says, and that challenge is back in his eyes. Zayn finds himself sitting up a little straighter in his seat, and he holds Liam’s gaze as the wicked glint in Liam’s eye sends a flash of heat down his spine. 

“I guess we do” 

“Okay, give it to me then”

“Give it to you?” Zayn asks, with a wicked smirk on his face and a predatory glint in his eye.

Liam rolls his eyes, but the fire hasn’t left them. “The list. Of everyone you want dead. They’re the most likely to want to get to you right?” 

Zayn throws his head back and laughs, “No” 

“No you won’t give it to me?” 

“No there isn’t a list” 

Liam’s response is an unimpressed eyebrow. “You’re the boss of the biggest organized crime syndicate in New York City and you’re telling me there isn’t one single person you want taken out?” he scoffs, “I find that hard to believe” 

Zayn leans back in his chair, and winks. “I never said that”, he purrs. 

Liam looks at him in confusion. 

“Like you said I’m the boss. Which means everyone I want dead is just that” 

Liam gulps. Well fuck, that’s going to make this more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think of Zayn's POV? Did it live up to expectations? Do you like where the story is headed? Do you have an idea for going forward?
> 
> Love it?? Hate it?? Hate ME?? 
> 
> Please please please let me know!! Comments and kudos make my little writer's heart glow with joy, reading y'alls comments is always the best!


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